The Intimacy Endeavor
by BespectacledBrunette
Summary: After his prom-night conversation with Amy (8x08 "The Prom Equivalency"), Sheldon realizes he hasn't been meeting Amy's needs - emotional or physical. Can he make up for lost time? Mostly Shamy, with mild Lenny and lots of Shelnard & Shenny friendship. Rated T for now. Reviews always appreciated!
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Sheldon lay awake in his bed, unable to sleep. It had been a long night, but a wonderful one. Amy had told him he performed his prom date duties admirably, from slow-dancing on the rooftop to escorting her home (never mind that he had forced Leonard to drive them). And Amy…well, he still couldn't get the image of her in that dress out of his mind, nor the kiss they had shared outside her apartment as he wished her goodnight. In some ways, it had been just like their usual kisses – approximately 15 seconds of closed-mouth contact, their bodies close, his hands resting on her hips – but it was also completely different. Instead of keeping her hands by her sides, she had tentatively rested them on his waist. Instead of simply allowing him to kiss her, she had kissed back. He had enjoyed these uncharacteristically confident mannerisms, of course, but there was something about it that bothered him. Something that he had tried not to think about until the night was over and he was back, alone, in his bedroom. Something that even now was hard for him to face, or even to put into words, except for the one inescapable sentence that kept pounding through his brain: _I've been a terrible boyfriend_.

He finally decided to give up on sleep for the moment and, slipping out of bed, made his way to the kitchen to prepare himself a hot beverage. He was deep in his thoughts and had just finished preparing a mug of cocoa when Penny appeared, wearing Leonard's shirt from earlier and little else.

"You're up late, Shelly-bean," she remarked, opening the fridge.

"Hello, Penny. I trust the coitus was satisfactory."

It was a typical Sheldon remark, but Penny could hear something in his voice that wasn't quite right. She eyed him for a moment before cautiously asking, "Why so glum, chum?"

He took a sip of steaming cocoa. "Just a lot of things on my mind." Without further comment, he sauntered over to his spot, where he sank into the familiar cushiony depths to brood.

Penny watched him warily. "What kind of things?"

He glanced at her morosely. "Relationship things."

Penny's eyebrows raised. "Oh no. Sheldon, I swear to God…this had better not be about you regretting what you said…"

"What?" Sheldon snapped to attention. "What are you talking about?"

"Amy told me you said 'I love you.' She was over the moon about it. Please don't tell me that you regret saying it, because if you didn't mean it and were toying with her, I'm going to have to…"

"Penny!" he exclaimed, rising to his feet, anger flashing in his eyes. "I would never…you know…Amy is…I do love her!" he spluttered. "Of all the things to suggest…"

"Okay, okay," Penny said hurriedly, stepping toward him. "I'm sorry. I just…I don't want to see Amy get hurt. That's all."

His anger seemed to dissipate, and he sank back down onto the couch. "And you think I'd hurt her."

"No, sweetie. I didn't mean that. I just…when I saw you looking so unhappy…I thought maybe you had just done what you thought she wanted." Penny perched on the edge of the chair, facing him.

"That's ridiculous, Penny." He took a long sip of cocoa, staring straight ahead, then continued in a monotone voice: "I clearly have no idea what Amy wants."

Penny's eyebrows raised again. "Do you want to tell me what's going on?"

There was a long silence while she watched him and he stared into space. Finally, he met her gaze.

"You've said before that Amy talks to you about me."

"Of course, sweetie. That's what girlfriends do. I tell her all about things with Leonard…"

"Penny, please. Don't make this about you." He rolled his eyes, and she was secretly relieved to see him acting more Sheldon-like.

"I'm sorry. Is there something you want to know?"

"Did she…" He paused, trying to choose his words. "Did she really not know that…"

"That you love her?" Penny offered. "Sheldon, honey, she may be a neuro-whatever, but she's not a mind-reader."

"Neurobiologist, Penny. Really." He rolled his eyes again, but he was still clearly not himself. "And…that's not exactly what I meant. Well, not all I meant."

"What else did you mean then?" Penny asked, gently.

"It's just that…" He swallowed hard. "Well, she also seemed so surprised when I told her she looked pretty."

"Oh," Penny said softly, inwardly moved by how much he looked like a lost little boy right now. "Well, had you ever told her anything like that before?"

He shook his head. "It was so obvious. I thought…I assumed she knew. And that me saying it would just seem superfluous."

"Superflu…" Penny saw Sheldon preparing to retort and quickly cut him off. "Never mind, I get the point. And sweetie, it's the same as what I said before. You can't expect her to know how you feel if you never tell her."

"I suppose you're right," he said quietly, staring down at the mug in his hands. The ease and resignation with which those words escaped his lips made Penny's eyes widen, but she kept quiet, waiting for him to continue. "Penny…I know that you and Leonard…and Koothrapali and Wolowitz and Bernadette…don't understand my and Amy's relationship. To you, things like relationship agreements and compulsory date nights…they don't seem intimate. But I assure you, to me, they are _extremely_ intimate." He paused again, swallowing hard. "I don't expect you to understand, but I thought Amy did. I thought she knew that if I didn't have…feelings…for her, then I wouldn't do any of these things. I certainly wouldn't have stormed into that movie theater like a crazed hippy during her date with Stuart."

Penny's eyes widened further. "Wait…Sheldon…are you saying that even then…"

Sheldon nodded. "I love her, Penny." And suddenly, without warning, he was in tears.

Penny rushed to his side, gingerly placing her arm around his trembling shoulders. He didn't push her away. "Sheldon, sweetie," she started, desperately trying to think of the right thing to say. "She knows now. You told her. You love her, and she loves you. There's no reason to be upset…you should be happy! I know she is. I've never seen her look half as happy as she did tonight…"

"You think I don't know that?" He looked up, a shadow of his earlier anger returning. "I may not be the best at reading facial cues, but I know Amy. Or I thought I did. But you're right. Tonight she was happy. The way she should have been all along." He sniffled, wiping helplessly at his eyes with his free hand. "I was hurting her, Penny. All this time, I was letting her think that I didn't…that I don't…" He dissolved into tears again.

Penny gently took the mug from his hand and set it on the coffee table, then slipped her arm around him. This time, he allowed her to give him a full side-hug without protest or remark.

"What's going on?" Leonard stood in the hallway, rubbing his eyes and putting on his glasses.

Penny looked to Sheldon for permission, but he was too far gone in the storm of his emotions to notice.

"He's upset about Amy." She patted him on the back reassuringly.

"Upset about Amy?" Leonard walked over to sit in the chair. "I would have thought he'd be pretty proud of himself. I don't think anyone believed he was capable of the amount of affection he showed tonight…"

He registered Penny's "please-shut-up" expression too late, and Sheldon started shaking harder, practically gasping for breath. _What did I say?_ He mouthed. Penny bit her lip, looked at Sheldon, and decided there was little she could do in the moment until he calmed down.

"Sweetie, I'm going to go get something to drink. Will you be okay for a second without me?" Sheldon nodded weakly through his tears, and she gently removed her arms from him. With a quick head tilt, she motioned Leonard to join her.

"What's going on?" Leonard whispered, hoping Sheldon's Vulcan hearing was impaired by his emotional state.

Penny sighed. "As best as I can tell, he's upset because Amy didn't know that he loved her before tonight."

Leonard's eyes widened. "Before tonight? So he told her…"

"Oh, right! I forgot to tell you."

"Forgot to…how could you forget to tell me something like that?" He was incredulous.

"Well, I was pretty preoccupied…" She looked at him pointedly, and he cracked a grin.

"Okay, okay. But still. That's huge. And it helps explain why Amy looked so happy. But if she's so happy, why is he…"

"He didn't realize she didn't know," Penny whispered. "He hasn't told me exactly what was said, but I take it she was surprised when he said that he had feelings for her."

"Seriously? How could he expect anyone _not_ to be surprised?"

Penny nodded. "Believe me, I know. But apparently he thought she knew, and now he's upset that he's been hurting her all this time by not telling her…"

"Well…" Leonard's voice trailed off, and Penny's eyes conveyed her unspoken agreement.

"There's something else." Surprised, they both turned to see Sheldon looking at them from the couch, his face splotchy but considerably more composed. "It would seem that it is not only my failure to verbalize my romantic feelings that has been hurting her, but also my failure to act on those feelings."

Penny and Leonard exchanged glances.

"Sweetie, you've known for a long time that Amy would like a physical relationship with you…"

"Yes, of course. But she also wants a bigger lab, a pet monkey, and my top-secret sourdough bread recipe. And she's always seemed content to wait as long as necessary for those things."

Leonard groaned. "You did not seriously just compare a physical expression of love to a loaf of sourdough bread…"

_A physical expression of love_? Penny mouthed, catching his eye, and they both grinned.

"Good lord, Leonard. Of course not. I said a _recipe_ for sourdough bread." Sheldon sighed and stood. "You of all people should know how good that recipe is…"

"Sheldon," Penny stopped him. "I think Leonard's point is that having a physical relationship with you means more to Amy than any of the things you just mentioned. All of them put together, even."

Sheldon nodded. "I know that now. Maybe it seems silly to you that I didn't before, but…I really thought it was just something she would like. Not something that, by its absence, was adversely affecting her well-being."

Leonard walked over and laid his hand on Sheldon's shoulder. "Buddy, you're not going to get anywhere by beating yourself up over this. The important thing is that Amy knows that you care about her and that you're trying. You showed her that tonight. And I, for one, am very proud of you."

"Me too," Penny said, coming to join them. "You did good, Shelly-bean.

"Did _well_," he corrected her. "Really, Penny, maybe you should read the book _I _got _you._" Leonard involuntarily smirked, only to receive a brief scowl from his other half. "Still, thank you both for your counsel. I should go to bed. I have a busy day ahead of me."

"Oh really?" Penny queried with a smile. "Romancing the pants off Amy?"

"Good lord, no," Sheldon replied as he left the room. "A scientist always does his research before an experiment."

Penny and Leonard stared at each other, wide-eyed. "Does he mean what I think –" Penny started.

"I think so," Leonard replied. "Should we warn Amy?"

"No," Penny answered quickly. "After tonight, I'm pretty sure she knows to expect the unexpected. I know I sure do."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Amy woke to the warmth of Sunday morning sunshine streaming through her bedroom window and the retreating memory of an exceptionally nice dream. A glance at her phone, placed carefully on her nightstand, revealed that it was nearly eleven o'clock – far later than she normally slept, even on the laziest of weekends – but she couldn't bring herself to care. Instead, her eyes and her mind focused on another object resting nearby: a small silver tiara glimmering in the light. She silently thanked herself for leaving it there so she could see it when she first woke up. Otherwise, she might have convinced herself that the night before had never happened: that she had not made up for her missed prom, danced with a man who had arms, and had that man – who she adored – admit that he loved her.

_He loves me! _ The very thought still made her breathing shallow, even after having all night to process it. _He loves me, and he said it first._ That wasn't even all. He had also said she was pretty – so pretty that he had panicked. She could have smiled for days simply from hearing his voiced approval of her appearance, but knowing that her looks had inspired a physical reaction from her typically aloof boyfriend was simply overwhelming. And to have received a profession of love, an acknowledgement of attraction, and an unprecedented amount of physical contact from Sheldon Lee Cooper all in one night? Amy was sure she was in heaven. She closed her eyes again, allowing herself to sink back into the still-fresh memories.

She remembered him asking her to dance when they had first arrived at the prom, having just confessed their feelings for one another. She had tentatively laid her hands on his shoulders, being sure to keep at least six inches between them. Even though he loved her, he was in no way fond of PDA. To her surprise, he had drawn her closer so that their torsos were touching ever so lightly and his hands were caressing the small of her back.

"This is nice," she had whispered, overcome by his willingness to get so close.

"Good," he had murmured, giving her waist a light squeeze and nestling his cheek against her hair.

She remembered the way their friends had looked at them throughout the night. Raj had become giddy when Sheldon offered Amy his jacket to protect her against the cool breeze. Bernadette had winked approvingly when Amy had mentioned being thirsty and Sheldon immediately went to get punch. But it had been Penny, of course, who sensed there was something more; that it wasn't just Sheldon's gentlemanly conduct that was making Amy walk on metaphorical sunshine.

"Ames, what's the deal?" Penny had hissed, stealing an opportunity to get her alone while Sheldon was spiking the punch bowl with pomegranate juice. "He's practically all over you, by Sheldon standards, and you've not stopped smiling since you came upstairs. What happened?"

Amy had told her about the 'I love you', and Penny had been stunned. But before any more girl talk could occur, Sheldon had returned and asked her for another dance.

From that moment, he had barely left her side; in fact, he had barely broken contact. If they weren't dancing (and oh, how she loved dancing with him – the confidence in his eyes and touch as he guided her through each step, dip, and spin; the almost effortless syncing of their bodies' rhythms), and if they weren't holding hands (he had lifted all restrictions on hand-holding for the night, despite maintaining that he was not a fan), he had been surprisingly quick to engage in innocuous touches: a brush against her arm to get her attention, his hand on the small of her back to guide her as they walked, even his arm placed lightly around her waist while they waited for the prom king and queen to be announced. (The latter had made her breathless even before their names were read.) True, it had been Penny who placed the new tiara on her, and it was Leonard who gave her a congratulatory kiss on the cheek, but it had been Sheldon who – during the dance that followed – entwined his fingertips in her hair and lovingly whispered that she looked like a princess.

_Lovingly._ Her eyes watered at the memories, at the knowledge that even now – wherever he was and whatever he was doing – Sheldon loved her.

Amy slipped out from under the covers and walked across the room to her dresser, where a picture of fifteen-year-old Amy smiled from an antique frame.

"It really does get better," she whispered with a smile.

* * *

><p>It was late in the evening and Amy was practicing her latest original harp composition when she heard her cell phone vibrate on the coffee table. Within seconds, she was looking into a pair of familiar blue eyes.<p>

"Hello Sheldon." She beamed.

"Hello Amy." He was also smiling but looked rather tired. _Leonard and Penny must have kept him awake last night with all their amorous vocalizations_, she thought.

"How was your day?" she asked amiably.

"It was…informative," he replied.

_That was an odd expression_, she thought.

Sheldon continued. "I apologize for calling so late, but I had something I wanted to ask you. I know that we both customarily have dinner with our social group at my apartment on Monday evenings, but I was hoping that you might make an exception this week."

She willed herself to retain a calm outward appearance even though her heart was racing. "You don't want me at your apartment?" _Is this his way of asking for space? Is he regretting being so open and affectionate last night?_

Sheldon seemed confused. "Well, no. I was hoping we might have dinner at your apartment."

As suddenly as it had come, her anxiety dissipated and was replaced by surprise. "Oh…you mean…like a date night?" In the years that they had been boyfriend and girlfriend, Sheldon had never proposed a date night less than three business days in advance, and even then it had only been for special events like science lectures and train store sales. She was shocked he would suggest changing their routine simply to have dinner alone together.

He nodded. "Yes. Exactly like a date night. Except I don't want you to feel you have to cook. I can bring dinner for us both."

She smiled as naturally as she could, trying not to show how taken aback she was by the whole situation lest he rethink it. "That's very thoughtful of you, Sheldon. I don't mind cooking for you, but this is rather short notice."

He nodded. "I'm sorry for that. I meant to call and ask earlier today, but I was rather…busy."

_Was Sheldon blushing_? She quickly dismissed the thought. Having so many fantasies come true at prom was making her quick to imagine things.

He cleared his throat. "So is that a yes to dinner?"

"Of course." She smiled. "I am already looking forward to it."

"As am I. Also, Amy…"

"Yes?"

"I…I really enjoyed last night. I hope you know that." He spoke in the same serious, sincere tone he had used when he told her he had feelings for her.

Her heart melted. "I hope you know that I enjoyed it to. Thank you for being my date."

He nodded, and for a moment they both looked at each other in silence, a heavy but oddly pleasurable tension building between them. Finally he spoke again.

"I should let you get back to your evening routines. Goodnight Amy. Pleasant dreams."

_Oh, Sheldon, you have no idea_, she thought with a smile as she bid him goodnight.

**A/N: Sorry this chapter is a bit on the short side, but Chapter 3 should more than make up for it. ;) Thank you all for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_Knock knock knock._ "Amy."

_Knock knock knock. _"Amy."

_Knock knock knock…_

She swung the door open with a smile, and even though she looked the same as she usually did – cardigan sweater, denim skirt, tights, hair clips, and orthopedic shoes – she still momentarily took his breath away. "Amy."

Her eyes sparkled. "Hello, Sheldon. I see you brought Thai food."

He nodded and followed her into the apartment. "Yes, I ordered our usual choices. My apologies if you were feeling whimsical." Then, as he placed the bag of takeout on her dining room table, he asked, "How was your day in the lab? Are you still attempting to isolate the neurochemicals that cause feelings of shame?"

"Yes, and today's experiment was actually quite promising." Amy replied in her usual matter-of-fact tone. "If bacteria could blush, mine would have been redder than a rhesus macaque's buttocks."

Sheldon emitted a breathy laugh. "You brain monkeys crack me up."

"Pun intended?"

"Of course."

She smiled and turned to get beverages from the fridge. "So how was your day? Any progress with dark matter?"

"I wasn't as productive as I would have liked." He sighed. "It seems Penny's psychic was wrong about professional success."

Amy looked up in surprise from the Yoo-hoo she was pouring. "You went to see Penny's psychic?"

"I was practically dragged there by Penny…" His voice trailed off. "Actually, that isn't a very interesting story. Let's talk about something else."

"O…kay…" Amy returned with both of their glasses and set them down. "Did you get the koala video I sent you?"

"Oh, yes," he answered, his face brightening. "I must say, Amy, I have not regretted making you an exception to my ban against forwarded YouTube videos. You, unlike a certain short, bespectacled colleague of mine, know how to wield that power responsibly…"

Their conversation continued along these lines throughout dinner: the usual chatter about friends, work, science, and other interests. It was only after they had finished eating their meal and Amy was cleaning up the leftovers that the evening diverted from their typical date night routine.

"Amy," Sheldon remarked, leaning against the kitchen counter and watching as she rinsed their glassware, "I haven't been entirely straightforward with you."

She glanced over her shoulder at him. "What do you mean?"

"Well…" he hesitated. "I mean that there was a reason I suggested we have dinner tonight. I felt that there were some things we needed to discuss."

Amy turned off the faucet and dried her hands on a dishtowel, all the while trying to think of how best to respond. Finally, she said softly, "Sheldon, if this is about what you said the other night, before prom…"

She looked at him for confirmation, and he gave a small nod. She continued, choosing each word carefully.

"Then I meant what I said about there not being any pressure on you. Not just with regard to physical intimacy. To all of it. I don't have any increased expectations. We never even have to talk about it again if you don't want to."

They held each other's gaze for a long time. She thought she could detect a sadness in his face, but she couldn't be sure, and even if she were right, she wasn't sure why. Finally, he stood a little straighter and motioned toward the couch. "I think we should sit down."

She followed him, and they sank into their usual positions on either end of the piece of furniture.

"Amy," he began, studying her face. "First of all, I do love you, and I have no qualms about telling you so. As I said before, it is undeniable fact. Now, that doesn't mean that I feel the need to say it all the time – we aren't hippies, after all – but it is how I feel."

She smiled. He continued.

"What worries me…and why I wanted to come over tonight…is that you gave me the distinct impression that you didn't know I loved you before Saturday night."

She looked down. "I…I had hoped. And I had thought that, maybe, you did…but I wasn't sure."

"Well," he said quietly, "since it is as I suspected, it seems I owe you an apology."

She looked up in surprise. "Sheldon, you don't have to apologize for anything…"

"No. I do. You should never have had reason to doubt your importance to my life. Amy…" He sighed. "I should have spoken of my feelings a long time ago. I chose not to because it was hard for me. I didn't realize that, by keeping silent, I was making it even harder for you." He looked into her eyes with the imploring look she so rarely saw but could never resist. "Please forgive me."

"I still maintain that there's nothing to forgive," she whispered. "But if it means that much to you, I forgive you."

He nodded, a ghost of a smile on his lips but concern still in his eyes. "I'm glad," he said, "But all the same, I feel the need to 'step up my game.'"

She eyed him curiously. "And how do you propose to do that, Dr. Cooper?"

Now his smile was fully apparent. "Vixen, you know how I love it when you call me doctor."

She nodded slyly.

"Anyway, if you'll be good enough to stop distracting me with your wily ways…" – he looked at her pointedly, but she could still see the mirth in his eyes – "I would like to propose a sort of a relationship reset."

She stared at him. "But aren't things going well?"

He nodded. "Yes. I don't mean a reset in our usual sense. I see it more as a…upgrade to a new version."

"I'm listening."

"It has become clear to me that I have not been particularly sensitive to your needs in the past. I have not been – as Leonard says – _emotionally available_, or amenable to fulfilling your requests when they did not suit my own desires." He paused. "That stops now."

Amy's eyes widened. "Sheldon…while this is all very sweet and romantic…I don't want you to do things you don't want to do just to make me happy."

He frowned. "Amy, that very attitude is what I'm trying to correct here. You seem compelled to sacrifice your needs and desires for my comfort. In the past, I have been selfishly willing to accept such conduct, but no more." He moved a little closer to her on the couch, so that their knees were almost touching and he could look at her more closely. "We're a couple, Amy, and that means making some sacrifices. But they should be made by both of us. Not just you."

She blinked back a tear.

"And now, as a token of good faith and because I have considerable catching up to do…" He turned and reached into his messenger bag, which he had left by the couch when he came in. "I would like to present you with some Cooper Coupons."

Amy grinned. For a moment there, she had been wondering if this was really her Sheldon.

She took the coupon book from him and looked at the cover.

_Cooper Coupons_

_Presented to Amy Farrah Fowler, the girlfriend, by Sheldon Lee Cooper, the Boyfriend_

_No Expirations, Exclusions, or Take-backs_

Amy looked up in surprise. "These are personalized?"

"Of course."

"And no tricky expiration dates?"

"Of course not. Really, Amy, I know I don't apologize often, but when I do, I try to do it right."

She nodded thoughtfully. He motioned for her to turn the page.

_Attendance as a couple at one family event, with no complaints or electronic distractions._

Her eyebrows raised, she proceeded to the next coupon.

_One date-night dinner at a non-pre-approved restaurant._

_One choice of couple's costumes to wear to a convention, costume party, or other appropriate social event._

_One relaxing massage, lasting no fewer than 15 minutes and no more than 30 minutes._

She froze.

Sheldon glanced to see which page she was on. "Yes?"

"No…anatomical exclusions?" she breathed, a little afraid to ask, lest he rip the book away and start adding disclaimers.

Slowly, he shook his head. "I thought we could talk about it, when the time comes. I know that's a bit unconventional and hippy-dippy for us…"

She stopped him. "It's perfect."

He smiled shyly and motioned for her to continue.

_One night of dancing at the institution of your choice._

_One piano serenade._

_One trip to Texas_.

She eyed him curiously. "And why would you think I would want to go to Texas?"

A flush spread across his cheeks. "Well, since you have repeatedly requested that I meet your family, and since I fully intend to fulfill that request, I thought it would only be only appropriate to offer you an opportunity to meet my family as well." He swallowed. "I know they are all very eager to meet you."

"You talk to your family about me?"

"Of course. You're a brilliant neurobiologist and a fascinating individual, so there is plenty for me to tell them. Also, my mother asks about you every time she calls."

Amy smiled. She had met Mary Cooper, albeit before she and Sheldon were formally dating, but lately she had been thinking that it would be nice to see her again under different circumstances. She was also undeniably curious about Missy; George, Jr.; and Sheldon's Meemaw. Meeting them would surely give her additional insight into her boyfriend's fascinating psychology.

"Well, I might have to take you up on this offer soon."

He smiled broadly.

Amy continued going through the rest of the coupon book. It was like a checklist of all the things she had ever wanted from their relationship – all the things she had asked for but had been denied, all the things she had been too afraid to even suggest. Everything except for one thing, but that was something she was willing to wait for and that she would prefer to have offered instead of having to redeem. By the time she finished reading the last few pages, she was so overwhelmed in emotions that she could hardly speak. "Sheldon…I don't know what to say."

"Then don't say anything," he said gently, looking at her in the same sweet, curious way he so often had during their most intimate moments together.

"But…this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me," she whispered.

He smiled. "I had hoped you would like it. Penny was skeptical."

"Penny?" She asked. "Did you ask her to help you with this?"

"Well…" He flushed and looked down at his hands folded neatly in his lap. "The coupons were my idea, but I did ask her for some suggestions regarding the specifics. While I am exceptionally brilliant in the world of science, I do not claim to be an expert in the whims and desires of women." She bit back a smile, and he pretended not to notice. "Not that I couldn't _become_ an expert, mind you," he added quickly. "I maintain that I can attain perfection at any task, once I set my mind to it. It's just that this particular task was not something I prioritized…until recently."

He looked at her meaningfully, and she felt the now-familiar sensation of localized vascular throbbing.

"And I believe," he continued, "that this brings us to our next order of business."

Her eyes widened. "There's more?"

He nodded. "Of course. I intend to be a better boyfriend – the sort of boyfriend you deserve. And while we have discussed how I intend to better fulfill your emotional needs, we have yet to talk about how this relationship upgrade will affect our physical relationship."

Her eyes widened, her throat constricted, and her hand rose to her chest.

"Amy?" he asked, leaning toward her.

His concerned blue eyes were the last thing she saw before she fainted.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"Amy. Amy. _Amy_."

Amy's eyelids fluttered. Her boyfriend was leaning over her on the couch, dabbing at her forehead with a cool rag. She blinked in confusion.

"What…what happened?"

"You passed out," Sheldon said simply, leaning back to observe her. "You know, Amy, you're setting a dangerous precedent for adverse health effects whenever I try to increase the intimacy level of our relationship. You might want to consider a more positive form of reinforcement."

That brought it all back to her. _While we have discussed how I intend to better fulfill your emotional needs, we have yet to talk about how this relationship upgrade will affect our physical relationship…_ Amy gulped and started to feel light headed again.

"Hold on," Sheldon said, rising from the couch and striding to the fridge. He returned with a glass of Yoo-hoo and a straw. "Drink this. The sugar might help."

She did as she was told, and she did feel a bit better, despite the fact that her fainting spell had had nothing to do with low blood sugar.

Sheldon waited patiently until the color had returned to her cheeks and she could sit up unassisted before asking, "Are you sufficiently recovered for us to continue our earlier discussion of physical intimacy, or would it be best to wait until another time? I wouldn't want to send you into another panic attack…"

Amy shook her head quickly. "I'm fine. I think it would be best to…to do it now."

Sheldon's eyebrows raised and a slow smirk flickered on his lips. She instantly realized what she had said and turned a deep shade of red.

"Really, Amy, let's not get ahead of ourselves," he teased, "but alright. I will continue."

She sat up straighter on the couch, watching him carefully, willing herself to keep her breathing regulated this time, no matter what he might say.

"Amy," he began – and she could see he was finally becoming nervous, as evidenced by a twitch in his expression and a slight wringing of his normally placid hands – "I think I should start by offering you an explanation for why I have been…unable…to give you what you want."

"Sheldon…I already know. I understand. I've told you that."

He swallowed and licked his lips in his characteristic way. She wondered vaguely if anyone had ever told him how attractive he looked when he did that.

"I'm not sure that you do…completely…understand," he said slowly. "Perhaps if you told me what you think the reasons are…"

"Very well," she nodded. "Well, first of all, there is your fear of germs, and your aversion to the exchange of bodily fluids."

He nodded. "Yes, that was a problem at first. But we already kiss and share food, and the human mouth has far more germs than most other parts of the body. As for fluids…well, I don't think I'll ever find that aspect of coitus to be particularly appealing, but given both of our excellent hygiene rituals, I think I can manage."

She raised her eyebrows. "Alright. Then, there is also your religious upbringing."

Sheldon rolled his eyes. "Really, Amy? You know I'm not religious."

She nodded. "I do. But I also have a working understanding of developmental psychology. Growing up with a deeply religious mother, you almost certainly absorbed some of her attitudes toward sexual behavior as something dirty or wrong."

Sheldon was quiet for a moment. "I suppose that may be true. But seeing as how my mother seems to have reversed her opinion, or is at least willing to…overlook it…I feel fewer qualms about drawing my own conclusions from…" – he looked pointedly at Amy – "personal experience."

_Hoo._

She wasn't sure how long she had been staring at him in silence before he gently prodded her with his foot and his words. "Next reason."

"Oh, right." She thought for a moment. "Well, there is your characterization of yourself as a _homo novus _who is above such activities. Your feeling that if you were to engage in…sexual activity…you would be no better than a common man."

Sheldon shook his head. "As much as I would like to have an android body and a mind devoted wholly to science, it is undeniable that I have certain feelings and…urges…when I am near you. And as you have pointed out before during our Star Trek nights, even Spock – a superior being – experienced _pon farr_ and engaged in mating rituals."

It was all Amy could do to maintain her composure. "O…kay…"

"Next," Sheldon said.

"There's your need for perfection?" She asked it more than said it. "I'm sure you've heard horror stories from Leonard and others about their first times. Does that worry you?"

He shook his head. "I will be as prepared as I can be beforehand, of course, but I accept that perfection can only be attained through practice."

Amy stared.

He smirked. "Anything else?"

She gulped. "I can't think of…oh, of course. Your haphephobia. Your fear of touch."

He eyed her curiously. "You think I'm _afraid_ of being touched?"

"Well…" Her voice trailed away as she considered it. "You certainly dislike being surprised by touch. But no, I suppose it has always struck me as more of a strong distaste and aversion than as an actual fear."

He paused for a long moment, looking down at his hands, before finally asking, "Amy, as a neurobiologist, are you familiar with the concept of sensory sensitivity?"

"Of course," she responded, almost automatically, her professional persona taking charge. "It refers to individuals' ability to detect and process environmental stimuli using any or all of the senses. Some individuals are hyposensitive and have difficulty detecting stimuli; others are hypersensitive and may become easily overwhelmed by aspects of their environment. For example, someone who is hypersensitive may hear sounds as magnified or distorted, have intense reactions so even subtle smells, find being touched to be painful or uncomfortable…"

She stopped mid-sentence. He watched her carefully for her reaction.

"Why did you never tell me?" she finally asked, her voice softening.

He sighed. "I suppose that, like with my incident in Arizona, I was afraid you might think less of me. Also, I got used to hiding my…condition…a long time ago."

Her eyes narrowed in confusion. "Why?"

He shrugged. "Let's just say my father, brother, and most of East Texas didn't have much use for a boy who couldn't 'man up.'"

She studied his face and realized there was a huge part of him that she knew nothing about – that he had locked away – but she knew better than to push him now.

"I'm sorry, Sheldon."

He shrugged again and was silent.

She found herself searching for words. "Sheldon…sensory sensitivity is a neurological phenomenon. You were born the way that you are, and there's nothing wrong with that. All it means is that you experience the world differently than most people. That's part of what makes you so special."

He looked at her. "So special that I find it difficult to touch my own girlfriend?"

She could see it then: his own private battle that he had been fighting for so long. "Sheldon…"

He stopped her. "Amy," he said, "I need you to listen to me, and to believe me when I say that I…I am undeniably physically attracted to you. Naturally, I want to be close to you…to touch you. None of my aversion to physical intimacy has ever been because of you. It's quite the opposite." He swallowed hard. "You are the first person – the _only _person – to make me want to try."

She nodded.

They both sat quietly for a moment, and Amy thought over the implications of what he had told her. It was as if she had been given the key to a puzzle; or rather, she had realized that the key had been in her possession all along, just with its significance unrecognized. After a moment, she softly asked, "It's not just touch, is it? That you're sensitive to?"

He shook his head.

Amy drew in her breath. "So that's why the guys think you have Vulcan hearing…"

He nodded.

"…and why it bothered you when Penny changed the scent of her shampoo…"

"Yes."

"…and your dietary restrictions?"

"Perhaps, but I think that is mostly due to my having a superior palate."

He grinned, and she smiled back, glad to see him emerging from the sadness that had come over him. "What else?"

He shrugged. "It's hard to say, especially since I've never experienced life without it, but I imagine it affects many or even most aspects of my daily routine. For example, the reason I almost always wear shirts like these…"

"…is because of the fabric? It's soft enough not to irritate your skin?" Amy guessed.

Sheldon nodded. "I would never admit it to Leonard, but I wouldn't have lasted five minutes in that 'Lenny' sweater."

They looked at each other, the memory of Leonard with packages of frozen peas clasped to his chest hitting them both at the same time, and they both started to laugh.

When their mirth had died down, and Amy could see that Sheldon was back to his normal self, she decided to ask her next question. "Is there any physical contact that you _are _comfortable with?"

"Well…" An odd little smirk came across his face. "I actually quite enjoy kissing you."

She raised her eyebrows. "I would have thought that that would be what you are _least_ comfortable with. Kissing is a particularly intimate form of touch."

"I know," he replied. "The high density of nerve endings in the lips makes them more sensitive than most parts of the body, suggesting that the sensations I receive from kissing should be more over-powering than those I receive from touch. And, in a way, they are. However, I find the sensation of kissing you to be so intensely pleasurable that I am, consequently, more amenable to becoming overwhelmed."

Amy was unable to resist leaning toward him hopefully. Sheldon sighed.

"That wasn't meant as an invitation, little lady." Then, registering the disappointment evident in her expression: "Oh, all right. But don't think this means you can maul me whenever you want."

He leaned in and planted a firm yet gentle and perfectly chaste kiss on her lips, pulling away after only a few seconds.

"Now, if I've managed to sate your desire for the moment," he said, giving her his best stern expression but with an undisguisable twinkle in his eyes, "I'll go back to what I was saying. Generally speaking, I can only overcome my aversion to touch when in a particularly volatile emotional state. For instance, when Penny gave me…" He swallowed hard, affected by the memory even now. "Leonard Nimoy's DNA."

Amy nodded. "Of course. Or when you hugged Leonard after Professor Proton…passed." Sheldon had mentioned that moment in passing, and she had always found it very sweet.

"Yes," Sheldon said. "That is typically how it is. But with you, it's different. I don't need something to make me want to touch you. I just need the right conditions to feel…in control of the situation."

Amy raised her eyebrows. "So how do you propose we proceed, Dr. Cooper?" she asked.

"Well," he said, "I have given that a lot of thought. And I think I have found a solution that will work well for both of us."

"I'm listening."

It took him a minute to respond, and when he did, he seemed flushed. "I find that it is easier and more comfortable for me to touch you than to be touched. With that in mind, I have done some research, and I am given to understand that there are a myriad of ways that we can engage in…heightened physical intimacy…that focus on you."

She stared at him. "Are you saying…what I think you're saying?"

He eyed her warily. "If you understand that we will be moving slowly, and that this…endeavor…will take time…then, yes."

She took a deep breath, willing herself not to pass out again. It all sounded too good to be true, but…

"But…Sheldon…" she began cautiously.

"Yes?"

"You do realize that, eventually, if we're going to truly be intimate with one another…I need to be able to touch you too?"

He sighed. "I know, Amy, and I'm trying. I just…I need to take this at a speed I can handle."

She nodded. "I understand. And I am…unbelievably honored…that you would do this for me. I just needed to make sure that you understand that, someday…"

"I do," he answered, looking into her eyes. "And I will."

She smiled. "Thank you."

Sheldon turned back to his messenger bag, this time producing his iPad. "Since we seem to have reached an understanding, I would like you to sign this addendum to the 'Physical Contact' portion of our relationship agreement."

"Cooper Coupons _and_ a Relationship Agreement addendum? You've certainly been busy."

He nodded and handed her the iPad. She looked down, expecting to see specific parameters for when, where, and how their "endeavor", as he had called it, would be carried out. To her surprise, the addendum was much more straightforward:

_All restrictions on physical contact outlined above may be suspended on date nights or other agreed upon occasions if and when the following conditions are met:_

_1. __The boyfriend and the girlfriend are alone together._

_2. __The boyfriend and the girlfriend are in a private location, e.g. an apartment._

_3. __Both parties have agreed upon engaging in physical intimacy beyond the limits prescribed in the preceding section._

_Neither the boyfriend nor the girlfriend will disclose details of their intimate encounters with other parties without prior consent by his/her partner._

Deciding that the addendum was quite agreeable, she signed quickly and handed the device back to her boyfriend.

Sheldon added his signature under hers, then turned to slip the iPad back into his bag. He was feeling quite calm and pleased with himself until he heard her voice behind him:

"Sheldon…you know…we _are _alone. And this is a sort of date night…"

**A/N: Wow, thank you all for the follows, favorites, and reviews! I'm glad so many people seem to be enjoying the story so far. (Note: I am a graduate student with a rather busy course load this semester, so please be patient if it takes me a few days to a week to add each new chapter. I promise I won't stop until the story is finished!)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Sheldon's thoughts were racing. He realized quickly that it had been foolish of him not to anticipate this turn of events. They _were_ alone, and he was certainly thinking of this as a date night. In fact, he had intended to initiate a kiss at the end of the evening as usual, and had even been vaguely hoping that she would rest her hands on his waist again like she had after prom. But he had not considered things going any further, and now he was at a loss.

She was watching him, her green eyes softening as she saw his anxiety rising. "Sheldon, I was really only teasing…" she started. "We don't have to do anything tonight…you've already done far more than I could have ever asked for."

Her words settled the matter in his mind, although not in the way she had anticipated. _I'm not going to disappoint her again_, he thought determinedly, and forced himself to think back to the research he had been doing on the sly ever since that night on the train. He had to do something…anything…

And like it had only once before, his body made the decision for him. He lunged forward and pressed his lips against hers. She stiffened at first, clearly surprised by his choice despite their earlier conversation, but then he felt her lips become more pliant under his and her body shift ever so slightly closer. His hands found her waist, but then he realized something was missing.

"Here," he muttered against her lips as he wrapped her arms around him.

"This is okay?" she whispered back, resting her hands gently on his back while still not breaking their kiss.

"Just…stay still," he replied, letting his brain adjust to the sensations that were coming over him in waves. There was the feel of her cardigan against his hands – not at all unpleasant. And the scent of her dandruff shampoo – familiar, calming. He scooted a little closer to her so that the angle of the kiss was more comfortable. The placement of her hands shifted slightly as he did so, sending a shiver up his spine. _That might take some getting used to._

He forced himself to think back to his reading about kissing. There was French kissing, of course, though he wasn't sure he was ready for that. But something simpler…ah, yes. Concentrating hard, he parted his lips slightly so that he could suck – ever so gently – on Amy's lower lip.

She emitted a soft sound, something between a sigh and a moan, and somehow he knew without being told that that was a good sign. He slowly increased both the pace and the pressure of the kiss, gauging her reactions by the sound and speed of her breathing and the way her body squirmed and trembled beneath his hands. _Fascinating_. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registered that this moment – this exploration of intimacy – was more like a scientific experiment than he had expected. With each movement, he tested a hypothesis. Her responses were his data. And his conclusion?

"Mmmm," he murmured against her lips. As long as he focused on her – her breathing, her movements, the quiet little sounds she made each time he changed his approach – he could do this. He could keep the feelings that threatened to overwhelm him at bay. He felt her smile without breaking contact, and – remembering something else from his research – took the opportunity to nudge her upper lip in the hope she would follow his lead.

She did. As she parted her lips, he parted his, and suddenly they were open-mouth kissing.

For the briefest of moments, he wondered what all the fuss was about. Then he felt her exhale. The feeling of her breath entering his mouth – even the thought of it – should have disgusted him, but it didn't. It was just…_fascinating_. He wasn't sure why that word always seemed to come to mind when he was with Amy, but it had always been that way, since the moment they had met in a coffee shop and he had realized she was unlike anyone he had ever met. _Fascinating._

Slowly, hesitantly, he allowed himself to inhale, then exhale, never moving his lips from hers. She exhaled again, and so they continued, the air passing from her lungs into his and being returned, over and over until it felt like they were one creature instead of two.

The sensation of it was dizzying, unlike anything he had ever experienced. He had shared food with Amy, of course, and hugs, and all manner of other things, but never anything so intimately connected with her very _essence _as a breath. There was something so _primal _about it – about the way she moaned against his lip each time he exhaled and the way he found himself clinging to her more tightly with each passing moment. It was exhilarating.

"Sheldon," she finally gasped, and the raspy sound of her voice saying his name brought him out of his reverie. He allowed his lips to close, still pressed to hers, and without even thinking, he darted the tip of his tongue out to steal one last taste of her. Then he pulled back, his hands still on her waist.

She gazed up at him, her eyes glazed over in what he knew must be shock or arousal or both, and he knew she was feeling exactly the same complicated combination of feelings that were consuming him. He had told her that he enjoyed kissing her, and he had been telling the truth; but _this_, this had been so much more than that. He had never felt so close to her, so heady from sheer proximity. He found himself wanting desperately to kiss her again, to taste her lips, but he didn't think his brain could take it.

Instead, he pulled her into a hug, letting the warm familiarity of her embrace surround him as he waited for his heart rate to slow.

* * *

><p>"How did it go, buddy?" Leonard asked as Sheldon ducked into the car.<p>

Sheldon hadn't really wanted to call Leonard to come get him, but he had flat-out refused to let Amy drive him home – he was trying to be a more considerate boyfriend, after all – and he had vaguely worried that riding the bus with his mind this full of complicated thoughts and emotions would result in another trip to Little Sri Lanka.

"It went well," he said simply, still a little dazed. Not much had happened after his kiss with Amy. He had held her for a little while as they both processed the intimacy and emotions of the moment and of the evening as a whole, and then he had extracted himself from her arms and prepared to go home. They had foregone their usual goodnight kiss, as he was frankly afraid that if he kissed her again he wouldn't be able to tear himself away. She hadn't asked for an explanation, though he couldn't be sure if that was because she didn't mind or because she was too stunned by what had already transpired to make any protest.

In either case, here he was, back in the familiarity of Leonard's car and company. Still, he felt as if everything had changed.

Leonard began the drive home in silence, though he kept stealing not-so-subtle glances at his roommate's furrowed brow. Finally he couldn't resist any longer. "So…what happened?"

Sheldon was clearly offput. "Leonard, really, I hardly think it would be seemly of me to 'kiss and tell,' as it were. Besides, Amy and I have agreed not to discuss the details of our intimate relations with any…LEONARD!"

His roommate had pulled the car off the side of the road so abruptly that they were both jolted forward.

"ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME?"

"_YOU HAD SEX TONIGHT?_"

They both stared at each other incredulously.

"Of course not!" Sheldon finally answered. "I don't know what gave you that idea, but I certainly hope in the future you learn to contain yourself while operating a moving vehicle…"

Leonard wasn't letting him off the hook that easily. "You _said_ that you and Amy were having intimate relations."

"That is hardly synonymous with intercourse, Leonard." Sheldon gave one of his customary sighs of derision.

Leonard's eyes narrowed. "But it does suggest…"

Sheldon sighed. "Alright. Since you seem to be set on keeping us here on the side of the road all night while you pry into my personal life, I'll tell you the basics of what transpired, but _no_ details."

"Oh, believe me, I definitely don't want details." Leonard shuddered.

"Very well." Sheldon paused dramatically, and Leonard's eyebrows raised a few millimeters higher. "If you must know…we kissed."

He waited for more questions, or for the car to start moving again, but his roommate was simply glaring at him. Finally Leonard spoke. "You have _got_ to be kidding me."

It was Sheldon who was glaring now. "Did you hear a 'bazinga'?"

"No, but…"

"Then I wasn't kidding." Sheldon was quiet for a moment before adding, "Besides, I wouldn't kid about my and Amy's relationship."

Leonard sighed and shifted the car back into drive. "I didn't mean you were kidding about kissing her. I _meant _that typically, if someone talks about their 'intimate relations,' they mean something more than just kissing. Besides, you've kissed Amy before."

"Not like this," Sheldon answered honestly.

Leonard's eyebrows raised. "How did you kiss her?"

"I said no details, Leonard."

Leonard thought for a moment, then decided to press his luck. "On the lips?"

A sigh. "Yes."

"…With tongue?"

"…No."

Leonard shrugged. "Alright then."

Sheldon turned to face his roommate, pondering him seriously. "Have you ever _really_ kissed Penny, Leonard?"

Leonard shot him another incredulous expression. "Of course I've kissed Penny. You've seen me kiss Penny." _And I've done a lot more than kiss her. Things _worth_ swerving off a road for._

Sheldon slowly shook his head. "No. I don't think you have. Not really. If you had_ really _kissed her, like I kissed Amy tonight, you would know what I mean."

"Whatever, Sheldon. I'm too tired to argue about this."

They drove the rest of the way back to 2311 N. Los Robles in silence, but Leonard could feel the tension between them. Against his will, he started thinking back over the last few months with Penny. They had been spending more time alone together than usual, partially because Sheldon had been spending more and more of his time with Amy. But now that Leonard thought about it, it _had_ been a long time since he and Penny had kissed – _really_ kissed – as more than a step in the chain of events leading to something more.

He parked the car, and with a determined sigh, turned to look at his friend who was struggling with his seatbelt.

"Sheldon?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…discounted…what happened between you and Amy."

Sheldon gave a small nod. "Thank you."

"I was just…surprised by what you said." Then Leonard smiled. "Actually, you've been surprising me a lot lately."

"You and me both, buddy," Sheldon replied with a sigh. "You and me both."

* * *

><p>Penny stirred as she felt the mattress shift beneath her and Leonard's arm snake around her waist.<p>

"Hey," she murmured sleepily.

"Hey," he replied, giving her a gentle squeeze.

She rolled over to face him. "Did Sheldon clear things up with Amy?"

"Yeah, it would seem so."

"Mmmm. Good." She closed her eyes again.

"Penny?"

She parted her lips to reply, but before she could, Leonard was kissing her. It was slow and sweet, a lingering, languid kiss like they used to share when they were first dating. She smiled when he pulled away.

"That was nice."

"Mhm."

As he cuddled close to her, breathing in the scent of her hair, Leonard had to begrudgingly admit that his roommate might be onto something.

**A/N: Okay folks, don't get too spoiled by getting two chapters in one day, but I was eager to get this one out for obvious reasons. Our Sheldon is quite the kisser! Speaking of which, while I enjoy _all_ the feedback you have been sending my way, I'm especially glad that people seem to like my take on Sheldon. He is surprisingly difficult to write in-character, but I'm doing my best to toe that line, and I'm glad the effort is showing.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

_[Note: This chapter is set after Episode 8x09: "The Septum Deviation".]_

"I look ridiculous," Sheldon harrumphed, absently touching his still-bruised though recently un-bandaged broken nose.

Amy repressed the urge to laugh, amused more by his sulky, boyish manner than by his appearance. "Actually, I think you look cute. Like you've been in a fight."

The two of them were sitting on her couch, watching an episode of _Firefly_. At least, Amy was watching. Sheldon had mostly been brooding over his injury and the consequent teasing inflicted by Kripke.

"Amy, really?" He rolled his eyes. "I know that girls like Penny tend to go for 'bad boys,' but I thought you were above all that."

"Oh, I don't know." She grinned wickedly. "I suppose I can't help myself around someone who picked a fight with a door…and lost."

He glared. Her smile faded somewhat, and she gingerly touched his hand.

"Sheldon, I'm just trying to cheer you up."

"I know…" He sighed. "This is just rather…uncomfortable."

She thought briefly of offering a consoling hug, but then she got an even better idea. "I'll be right back," she announced, sliding off the couch.

He watched her as she disappeared into her bedroom, brow furrowing in confusion. When several minutes had passed and there was no sign of her returning, he decided to check in. "Amy? You're missing the best part."

"I've seen this episode before, Sheldon," she called back from the depths of her closet.

"But this is the part where River…"

"Just pause it, then," she interrupted, and he did, despite his usual aversion to pausing episodes mid-scene.

After a few more minutes of silence, he called out to her again. "Amy, is everything all right?"

"Yes, everything is fine. And just so you know, for the next half hour or so, it isn't Amy." She appeared in the doorway of her bedroom with a wide smile and different attire. "It's Nurse Chapel. And we're going to play doctor."

He took a deep breath. She had only worn this costume for him once before, but he had thought of it often, especially in recent months. Of course, in his daydreams he was normally dressed as Spock, with the blues of their respective uniforms matching perfectly, but somehow that didn't seem important right now. As she strode over to him, he noticed how confident she seemed in the undeniably flattering uniform, despite how far outside her comfort zone it must be. The dress was far shorter than anything she normally wore, revealing more of her legs – albeit covered by translucent tights – than he was accustomed to seeing, and her hair was pulled back to reveal the graceful curve of her neck. _But she still looks like my Amy_, he thought approvingly.

"Lie back, Dr. Cooper," she instructed in a gentle but firm tone, and he immediately obeyed, making himself as comfortable as he could within the constraints of the size of her couch. She shot him a saucy smile and turned on the tricorder she was holding. "It's time to give you a check-up."

As Amy began pretending to take his vital measurements, Sheldon found himself thinking back to earlier in their relationship. In the beginning, his interest in her had been solely for her mind, but the more she had impressed and fascinated him with her undeniable brilliance, the more he had begun to notice her other qualities. Her short-lived dalliance with Stuart had been particularly eye-opening, forcing him to acknowledge that while most people were incapable of fully appreciating her superior intellect, her physical attractiveness and nurturing personality were apt to draw the attention of lesser minds. Then there had been other incidents – the time he had helped her bathe when she was sick, the evening she had showed up at his apartment in that bewitching schoolgirl uniform, and their private game of Dungeons and Dragons, among others – that had shown him his Amy was more of a vixen than he had initially realized.

Lately he found himself pondering how pretty she was during even the most innocent of interactions. He caught himself studying the contrast between her skin and her lab coat during their lunches together at work; he couldn't help admiring the way her skirts hugged her hips when he followed her up stairs. She was always pretty, always beautiful, always _captivating _in her own unique way. But there were moments when she was more than that: moments when her sensuality was so palpable that he was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Moments like prom. Moments like now.

Now as he watched her pacing along the length of the couch, taking readings and murmuring her data aloud, he wondered how he ever failed to notice how attractive she was. There was the graceful motion of her legs as she walked, and the way her clothing clung alluringly to her curves while still preserving her modesty. But more than anything else, he found his eyes drawn to the expanse of skin along her neck to the top of her shoulder. It was an area usually obscured by her hair or by high shirt collars, but now he was free to sweep his eyes along it and wonder what it would feel like to touch her there.

"Amy," he said softly.

She glanced at him with a smile. "I told you, right now I'm Nurse Chapel." Her gaze returned to the tricorder.

"Amy," he tried again, a bit more insistently, even reaching out to brush his hand against hers. She ignored him, continuing to pretend to take readings.

He sighed, took a deep breath to build up his courage, and reached out again, this time placing his hand on her calf just above the top of her boot. "_Amy!_"

She immediately turned her head this time, eyes wide with surprise.

He pulled back his hand. "I thought that might get your attention," he said with a slow smile and the slightest hint of his Texas accent.

She took a few deep breaths before speaking. "…Yes?"

He pulled himself into a seated position and motioned to the spot on the couch next to him. "Sit."

Amy did as she was told, remaining quiet, compliant, and curious as he helped her to remove the tricorder strap from around her neck and laid the device aside on the coffee table. When he turned back to her, he took her right hand in both of his and positioned it so that her index and middle fingers were extended. He then did the same with his own right hand and, gazing meaningfully into her eyes, softly caressed her fingers with his.

Amy had limited knowledge of his beloved Star Trek franchise, but she thought she recognized what he was doing. "A Vulcan kiss?" she whispered.

He nodded, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as he concentrated on their mutual touch.

"Sheldon," she whispered, deeply moved.

"Shhh." He continued for a few seconds, then paused, removing his hand from hers. "You know, I think I prefer the human way."

Amy tilted her face hopefully toward him, but he shook his head.

"Not right now. There's something else I want to try first." He raised his hand and, ever so lightly, rested it against her cheek. He noticed her pupils were dilated and that her breathing was quickening. Watching her carefully, he stroked his palm back along the line of her jaw and slowly down the curve of her neck, coming to rest on her shoulder. "Is this okay?"

She nodded, lost in the shimmering blue pools of his eyes.

He let his hand wonder back up, this time along the back of her neck, his fingers tracing slow, small circles on the sensitive skin. "And this?"

"I'll…I'll tell you if I want you to stop," she murmured, trying to convey all the implicit permission she could through her gaze.

He smiled, a little nervously, as if to tell her "_Message received."_ Then he lifted his other hand and proceeded to carefully remove her glasses, laying them next to the discarded tricorder.

He studied her for a moment, admiring the flecks of brown and gold dancing in her fascinating green eyes, before whispering as sincerely as he possibly could, "You're beautiful."

She felt herself flush; felt his fingertips follow the color as it spread across her cheeks; felt him watching her as she glanced away, trying to catch her breath.

"Amy," he said softly, and she forced herself to look back at him, to link gazes once more. "You're beautiful," he repeated, more insistently this time, and leaned in to plant a soft kiss on her forehead.

She shivered, and he slid his hands down onto her forearms, steadying her as he continued to pepper light kisses along her hairline and down to her ear.

_"Beautiful_," he murmured a third time, his lips pressed against her earlobe, and she thought she might faint again if he didn't stop.

"Sheldon…"

Sheldon moved his hands down to her waist and gently helped her to recline against the arm of the couch, encouraging her to relax as he leaned over her. He began to trace the curve of her neck with his lips, his thoughts racing as he pondered the softness of her skin and the intoxicating aroma of her pheromones.

"Amy," he murmured, his lips pressed firmly against her flesh, and out of nowhere a snippet of a long-past conversation came roaring back to him from the depths of his eidetic memory.

_There are certain things that say to the world that I have a boyfriend and he's not made up_…

Positioning his parted lips next to her collarbone, he tentatively began to suck on the delicate skin.

He was completely unprepared for her body's reaction: the sharp intake of breath, the violent arching of her back, the sudden grasping of a handful of his t-shirt. He started to pull away, but she managed to vocalize a breathy "Don't stop."

Obediently, he pressed his lips back against her neck and began to suck the skin a bit more aggressively, his hands gripping her waist a little tighter to steady her quaking form. She was salty-sweet and clearly quite sensitive, given her continued reactions to the suction he was creating and the occasional exploration of the tip of his tongue. (_I'll have to remember that for later_, he thought, smiling inwardly_._) He continued his ministrations on her delicate skin until he was reasonably certain that his goal had been accomplished, then pulled back to admire his handiwork.

If he hadn't thoroughly researched female sexual arousal, he might have been afraid he had hurt her. She was all but breathless, eyes clouded and cheeks flushed. As it was, he couldn't help but think that this look suited her nicely and consequently felt a surge of pride for having affected her so.

When she had had a few moments to recover, she realized that he was watching her, and she blushed. "Sheldon, that was…"

"Satisfactory?" he queried, leaning in to place a soft, brief kiss on her willing lips.

"Incredible," she replied honestly.

He nodded. "I agree." To her surprise and delight, he pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her in a warm hug.

"Sheldon," she murmured, face pressed against his chest, "I think we should play doctor more often."

**A/N: As always, thanks for all the reads/follows/favorites/reviews! You all really do inspire me to keep going. While I plan to keep the pace fairly slow to fit with what I think is realistic for Shamy, I'm excited to say that there is a very special story arc on the horizon that's really going to increase the steaminess and send Sheldon into sensory overload. ;)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"That's a really pretty scarf, Amy," Bernadette said, shifting to make room for her friend on the couch. It was pizza night in 4A, and Amy was the last to arrive.

"Thank you," Amy said, absently stroking the swath of silky fabric. She squeezed past Howard and Bernadette to take her customary seat on the couch next to her boyfriend. She could feel Sheldon's eyes on her and, taking a deep breath, began reciting her lines using her typical _Fun with Flags _inflection: "My mother bought it for me. I like it very much. It matches my outfit so well that I don't want to take it off, even though I am inside an apartment with optimized thermostat settings." She glanced at Sheldon for approval. He gave a small nod, clearly satisfied.

Everyone else was staring at her. "Um…okay…" Penny said, reaching for a slice of pizza.

Sheldon chimed in with an equally stilted inflection. "It is very common to feel attachment to articles of clothing received from a family member. I still have the mittens my Meemaw knitted for me when I was five years old." He smiled broadly at Amy and went back to eating his pizza.

There was a moment of awkward silence and an exchange of several confused glances before Bernadette took charge of the conversation. "So…Penny, how are the wedding plans going?"

"Oh, well…I've not done very much planning yet, but I did talk to my mom last night…"

As she and Bernadette began discussing possible venues, Raj leaned over to Howard. "If I didn't know any better," he whispered, "I'd think Sheldon gave Amy a hickey."

Howard looked over at Amy, who was tugging uncomfortably at her scarf. "She does seem to be hiding something," he remarked under his breath, "But does Sheldon even know _how _to give a hickey?"

"Maybe she got one from Bert," Raj whispered back, and they both snickered, remembering Amy's admirer.

Bernie paused in her conversation with Penny to glare at them. "Whatever you two are snickering about, it had better not be directed at me.

"Of course not, ma'am," Howard answered dutifully with a salute and a charming grin. Bernie visibly softened.

Penny decided to seize the opportunity to steer the conversation away from herself. "So Raj, how are things going with Emily?"

"Well…"

"_Outside _the bedroom," Leonard added quickly.

Raj pouted. "Oh, come on. I had to hear all the kinky details of you guys' sex lives for years…"

Bernie's voice raised an octave. "You tell him about our sex life?"

Penny arched an eyebrow at Leonard. "_All _the details?"

The guys immediately started scrambling.

"Oh come on, Bernie, I'm sure you talk to the girls…"

"Penny, I do not tell them _all_ of the details…"

"It's bad enough that you go on more dates with Raj than me…"

"Those are not _dates_, they are just friends hanging out…"

"Howard! I thought we agreed they were _special_!"

Sheldon and Amy sat quietly, eyes darting back and forth as the retorts flew. Finally, Sheldon spoke. "Okay, everyone, let's settle down. Ladies, having unwittingly being roped into hearing these conversations, I can assure you that none of the details that were shared were worth hearing." He continued, oblivious of the glares he was getting from around the room. "Furthermore, your sexual escapades are not appropriate dinner conversation for pizza night."

"Well at least all of us actually have sex lives instead of making one up!" Howard retorted.

The room fell silent. Raj began studying his plate with rare intensity. Sheldon's eyes dropped to his lap. Howard sat frozen, very aware of the death glares he was getting from Leonard, Penny, and Bernadette. Only Amy was looking around the room from one face to the next, brow furrowed in confusion.

Her eyes finally fell on her boyfriend. "Sheldon, what is he talking about?"

Sheldon slowly ventured a small, "I don't know…"

"Sheldon." She spoke firmly, a little angrily. "You're just making it worse by lying to me."

There was another long silence. Bernadette was still glaring at Howard, and Raj took a long swig of his beer. Penny finally started to stand. "Maybe we should move pizza night over to my apartment."

The others began shifting as if to go but were stopped by Amy's emphatic "No."

"No," she said, eyes still fixed on Sheldon, who was refusing to look up at her. "You clearly all know something that I don't, and no one is leaving until I know what it is."

After a few seconds, Sheldon sighed and spoke. "There may have been certain…rumors…at the university."

"What kind of rumors?"

He ventured a small, helpless glance at Leonard, who nodded and spoke up. "Amy, you remember Barry Kripke, right?"

"Of course."

"Right. Well, during that time…"

Amy stopped him. "I want to hear it from Sheldon."

Leonard fell silent, and Sheldon forced himself to look up at her. "You remember when I realized that Kripke's work was – temporarily – better than mine?"

"Yes."

"Well, he confronted me about it, and he made some…assumptions…as to why my work quality was suffering." He paused, saw that Amy was quickly losing patience, and continued. "Kripke expressed his belief that you and I were engaging…quite regularly…in coitus."

She bit her lip. "And how did you react to this?"

He gulped. "I may have allowed him to believe…"

Raj interjected, having polished off his beer amidst the awkwardness. "_Allowed _him? Dude. I heard some of the things you were telling him…juicy stuff." He smiled tipsily, then realized that he was now the recipient of the room's incredulous glares. "What?" he demanded. "You guys all heard them too. Well, everyone but Amy…"

But Amy wasn't listening to him. She was staring at Sheldon in horror. "You told him…"

"Amy, I couldn't let him think that he was _actually _superior to me…"

"But you could let him tell the whole university lies about me?!" She stood and looked around the room. "And you all knew about this – for two years – without telling me?"

They all looked down except Penny, who leaned toward her. "Amy, sweetie…"

"Don't 'sweetie' me," she said. "I need to be alone."

And like she had once before, Amy found herself scurrying to Sheldon's bedroom and closing the door behind her. This time, though, instead of sitting on the edge of the bed to think, she carelessly flung herself onto the mattress, removing her glasses and the constricting scarf and burying her head in his pillow. It was so like Sheldon, somehow, to disappoint her like this just when things were going wonderfully. Granted, this mistake had been made long ago, but that didn't make it hurt any less. She had dealt with her friends thinking their relationship was a joke and had borne Penny's teasing and Bernadette's snide remarks, but she had never once thought that Sheldon would treat their relationship lightly, too – that he would perpetuate lies about such a sensitive topic.

The last time she had been in this room alone, she had been close to tears. This time, she actually cried.

* * *

><p>Sheldon watched Amy leave the room and felt completely numb. This time he didn't need Leonard or Penny to tell him he'd messed up. He didn't even need them to explain <em>how<em> he had messed up. _Amy has every reason to be angry_, he thought. _But now, how do I fix it?_

It was Howard who finally broke the silence. "Sheldon, I'm sorry…I shouldn't have said…"

"You're damn right you 'shouldn't have said,'" declared Bernadette. "Did you even think about how Amy would feel…"

"Bernadette," Sheldon interrupted. "This is my fault, not Howard's. And Howard…let's just say we're finally even from that unfortunate incident with the FBI." He stood and began walking toward his room. "You all will have to continue pizza night without me. I need to talk to Amy."

As soon as he was out of earshot, Leonard spoke to Penny. "Do you think she'll be okay?"

Penny sighed. "I really don't know. She's had a lot of bad experiences of friends talking about her behind her back, and you remember how upset she got over the love spell thing…"

"Oh, have some faith, Penny," Raj said, swaggering to his feet. "Love conquers all."

"Yeah," Howard said, looking toward the hallway in amazement. "Apparently, even Sheldon Cooper."

* * *

><p>Sheldon tried his usual knocking, but when Amy didn't respond, he let himself into his bedroom and closed the door behind him. He was surprised and a bit alarmed to see her lying face-down on his bed with her scarf and glasses discarded beside her. For a moment, he had an irrational fear that she had succumbed to a panic attack and accidentally smothered herself.<p>

"Amy?" he said anxiously, walking over to sit beside her prone form. "Are you alright?"

She didn't answer, but he was close enough now to see her shoulders rise and fall and know that she was breathing. He could also hear muffled sounds, and after a moment of consideration realized she must be crying.

"Amy," he repeated, resting his hand on her back. She didn't look up at him, but she also didn't pull away. He patted her gently. "There, there."

That got her attention. She looked up at him, and her tear-streaked cheeks and watery eyes unsettled him more than he would have cared to admit. "Really, Sheldon? That's all you have to say? _'There, there_?'"

He bit his lip nervously. "Amy, you know I'm not good at these things…"

"Sheldon," she said, struggling into a seated position. "Do you remember our conversation the night we played Dungeons & Dragons together? When you followed me in here and…"

Her voice trailed off as his hand reached out and rested against her cheek. "I remember _everything_ about that night," he said, rather huskily.

"You said you didn't think our relationship was a joke," she murmured, trying to keep her voice even.

"I didn't. I don't."

"Then why did you…make light of it…with Kripke?" Her voice broke. "How could you lie about something that you _knew _was a sensitive topic for me? For us? And how could you let this go on for _two years_ without telling me?"

A single fresh tear slipped down her cheek, and Sheldon gingerly wiped it away with the pad of his thumb.

"Amy," he said softly, looking deep into her eyes, "Things were different then. _I _was different then. All the same, what I did was selfish and disrespectful to you, and I'm sorry for that. When Kripke made those assertions, I should have set him straight." He paused thoughtfully. "That also would have spared _me_ a lot of uncomfortable questions."

Amy's curiosity got the better of her. "What…what kinds of questions?"

"Mostly about how frequent, satisfying, and inventive our coitus was. I wasn't even sure what some of the questions meant, so I mostly gave yes and no answers." He shrugged. "And for some infernal reason, he kept asking about toys."

Amy nearly choked. "…toys?"

"Yes, that was my reaction too. I have no idea what my having a rocket next to my bed has to do with coitus…" Sheldon trailed off, clearly perplexed.

_He may have been doing research, but he still has some things to learn, _Amy thought with a smile.

"Anyway," Sheldon continued, "word spread much faster than I had anticipated, and the whole thing became rather embarrassing."

"You were embarrassed that people thought you were having intercourse with me?"

"Well…no…it wasn't quite like that," Sheldon answered honestly. "If anything, it was embarrassing _not _to be having coitus with you. There came a point, once I had improved my work and reestablished dominance over Kripke, at which I would very much have liked to put the rumors to rest. But to admit that…well…"

"You didn't want your coworkers to think less of you," Amy said quietly.

He nodded. "I told you I was selfish."

"I'm just glad you're being honest with me now."

He gave her a small grateful smile and continued. "After a few months, people mostly stopped talking about it, though our friends still like to tease me about it from time to time. I never told you because it didn't seem important, and because…"

"You didn't want to jeopardize our relationship, and had hoped I just wouldn't find out."

He nodded again.

"Sheldon," she finally said with a sigh, "I would be lying if I said that what you did wasn't hurtful, but I also know that it happened years ago and that a lot has changed since then. We have been making excellent progress in our relationship, especially in the last few weeks, and I would like to continue that."

He nodded. "As would I."

"I can forgive you for telling lies about us, so long as you promise not to let something like this happen again."

"The next time I talk to anyone about our sex life, it will be the truth," he replied solemnly. Her eyes widened as she pondered the various interpretations of that statement, and Sheldon smirked. "Now, if our relationship is re-stabilized and you are feeling up to it, may I suggest that we go back and enjoy the rest of pizza night? I am not convinced that our friend group can function properly without us."

"Okay," she said, "but first…may I have a consoling hug?"

He nodded and slipped his arms around her. After a few seconds, her hair – mussed from her crying spell – began to tickle his cheek, so he lifted one hand to brush it back and froze mid-motion.

_"Amy!"_ he gasped. "Did I…is that…I hurt you!"

At first she was confused, but then she remembered the mark that was no longer concealed by her scarf and repressed the urge to giggle at his reaction. "Sheldon, you did know that a hickey is a bruise, right?"

"Well, yes, I had read that, but I didn't expect it to look so…painful." He gingerly touched the skin just to the left of the mark.

"Don't worry – it doesn't hurt," she reassured him. "Although, if you're really concerned, I suppose we could treat this as an injury under the 'Booboos and Ouchies' section of our Relationship Agreement."

He frowned. "I'm not sure what course of treatment would be applicable here."

"Perhaps…another kiss?"

He looked into her hopeful eyes and tried his best to sound incredulous. "Vixen, I'll have you remember that kissing is what led to this particular injury."

"Don't worry, Dr. Cooper," she said with a slow smile. "I definitely haven't forgotten."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

_[A few weeks later...]_

"Fully stocked first aid kit?"

"Yes."

"Wool blanket?"

"Yes."

"Waterproof matches?"

"Yes."

"Two weeks' supply of food and water?"

Amy closed the trunk of her car and turned to stare at him. "Sheldon, we're going on an overnight trip a couple of hours away."

"I don't see your point."

She sighed. "Fine. We can pick up a few days' worth of food on the way if it'll make you feel better."

"It's not about making me feel better. It's about us surviving when we are trapped in your car for the duration of a snowy apocalypse."

Amy rolled her eyes as she got inside the vehicle. "We've already discussed this. There is only a thirty percent chance of precipitation in the next 24 hours, and even if it does snow, I am fully capable of handling it."

"I'm sure that's what the Donner Party said," Sheldon muttered, getting into the car and fastening his seatbelt.

She sighed and started the ignition. "Need I remind you that when I redeemed my coupon for your attendance at a family event, it did say that there would be no complaining?"

"First of all, we are not yet at the event. Secondly, I am not complaining about the occasion itself, or even my obligation to make small-talk with your extended family. I am merely disturbed by your cousin's choice of wedding venue."

"Sheldon, plenty of people get married at Big Bear Lake every year without their guests being snowed in and forced to resort to cannibalism."

"There's always a first time, Amy. Besides, it's not just the snow I'm worried about. The town is called Big _Bear_ Lake. That would imply that there are in fact bears in the area. And as you know…"

"Bears are terrifying," she finished in an exasperated tone. "Sheldon, if you don't stop this nonsense right now, I can promise that getting mauled by a bear will be the least of your worries."

He gave her a sidelong glance and decided she was serious. "Alright."

"Thank you."

They drove for a couple of minutes in silence before he finally asked, "Would you like to play the elements game?"

She smiled. "That sounds nice."

"Good," he murmured, relieved to have once again achieved relationship homeostasis.

* * *

><p>Amy was pleasantly surprised by how well Sheldon behaved for the rest of their trip. True to his word, he stopped talking about possible snow, bears, and other mishaps; and though he still insisted on stopping to buy provisions, he allowed her to talk him down to a four-day supply. As they neared their destination, he did ask to confirm the order of events she had told him earlier – arriving in Big Bear Lake around 2pm and meeting her mother for tea, checking into their hotel at 3pm, changing into their wedding attire, and arriving at the ceremony location by 4:30 – but he lodged no complaints and kept any snide remarks to himself.<p>

_I'll have to surprise him with a trip the train store on our way home_, she thought with a smile.

When they arrived in Big Bear Lake, there was already a thin covering of snow on the ground from the week before, making the landscape glisten beautifully in the afternoon sunlight. Amy found a lot near the tea house and parked the car, feeling a sudden surge of nervousness as she noticed her mother's car nearby.

Sheldon unbuckled his seatbelt and was preparing to open the car door when he noticed that Amy hadn't budged. "Amy, is everything alright?"

"Oh…yes…it's fine." She unbuckled her own seatbelt. "It's just that it's strange to finally be doing this. Having the two of you meet in person."

He nodded thoughtfully. "True, though I think I gave her a good impression when we met over video chat."

_Hardly,_ Amy thought wryly. It had been her fault, of course, not Sheldon's – having listened to years of complaints over her lackluster love life, she had thought that presenting Sheldon as her sexual partner would shock her mother into leaving her alone. Instead, she had won even more parental disapproval and the added burden of convincing her mother that Sheldon wasn't some kind of 'sex pervert.'

"Besides," Sheldon continued, "I have done some research for the occasion and believe I am well-prepared to win your mother's approval."

Amy's eyebrows shot up as she remembered Sheldon's entirely inappropriate attempts to win over the tenure committee. "Um…what exactly do you plan to do?"

"Well, I understand that it is customary for the boyfriend, when interacting with his girlfriend's mother, to attempt to impress her with demonstrations of chivalry and refined behavior, conversational indications of a stable career and finances, affectionate but tasteful compliments of her daughter's many positive traits, and a verbal affirmation of his good intentions for the relationship."

"Sheldon, I'm impressed."

"I'm not trying to impress you, Amy. I'm trying to impress your mother," he replied with a sigh. "Now let's get inside before we're late and jeopardize the whole endeavor."

Amy nodded and got out of the car, closing the door behind her and stepping determinedly toward the inviting "OPEN" sign of the tea house. To her surprise, she felt Sheldon's hand close around hers as they walked.

"I understand that hand-holding is a noticeable yet parentally-acceptable nonverbal display of affection," he explained, but as she looked up at him she could see a slight tremor in his manner that only appeared when he was uncharacteristically nervous.

"You'll do fine," she said softly, giving his hand a light squeeze.

"Of course I will. I'm a delight," he replied automatically, even as he gripped her hand a little tighter.

He let go of her hand only briefly to open the door for her – a gentlemanly maneuver that made her heart soar – then followed her inside. Amy's eyes swept over the room and finally fell upon a familiar face. Gripping Sheldon's hand, she steered them both over to the corner table where her mother sat.

"Hello, mother."

"Hello, Amy. Sheldon." Her mother spoke civilly but could not have seemed any more skeptical of the situation. Amy found herself thinking that Sheldon's difficulty recognizing emotions and vocal tones might serve him well on this particular occasion.

"Hello, Mrs. Fowler," he said, putting on his best koala face and extending his right hand while still clutching Amy's in his left. Amy could sense that her mother was as hesitant about hand shaking as Sheldon must have been feeling, but nonetheless she accepted the outstretched hand.

Before Amy could decide how to proceed, Sheldon was speaking again. "If the two of you know what you'd like, I can go place our order and let the two of you catch up." Amy eyed him quizzically, only to be further surprised when he added, "It's my treat, of course."

Mrs. Fowler seemed to relax a little in spite of herself and gave him her tea preference. Amy hurriedly said she'd have the same. As Sheldon approached the counter, Amy slipped into the seat opposite her mother.

"Well, mother, what do you think?"

"I have to admit, he is a very handsome man," Mrs. Fowler said, giving Sheldon's retreating form an appraising glance. "But I can hardly form a good opinion based on that alone, especially given our last conversation…"

"Mother, I've told you that that conversation was a ruse that I devised and that Sheldon was merely going along with it."

"And I've told you, young lady, that such conduct was unseemly and disrespectful. Any normal man…"

"Sheldon is hardly a _normal _man, mother. He is a brilliant…"

"He is _strange_, Amy."

"In case you haven't noticed, your daughter is _strange_ too." Amy was beginning to lose her patience.

"I know. That doesn't mean I can't want a normal life for her."

Amy sighed. "You wanted me to have a boyfriend. I have one. I love him and" – she took a deep breath, still half in disbelief that the words were true – "he loves me. What more can you possibly want?"

"Amy, when…if…you become a mother, you'll understand." Her mother reached across the table and took one of Amy's left hand in her own. "I'm just not sure his intentions toward you are right. With the way he was talking about you then, and the fact that there is still no ring…"

Amy pulled her hand away in frustration. "That doesn't mean anything."

"You say that now, Amy, but you aren't getting any younger."

Amy was nearly ready to scream when Sheldon approached, carrying a tray with three mugs. "So what have you ladies been discussing?" he asked cheerfully, setting the drinks on the table.

"Nothing," Amy muttered, doing her best to avert her gaze. While Sheldon was generally terrible at reading facial cues, he could usually read hers.

"Oh, I doubt that, Amy," he said lightly, sliding her mug to her. She took a long sip, glowering at her mother over the rim.

"Actually, Sheldon," Mrs. Fowler began, giving Amy a meaningful glance before turning her attention to Sheldon, "I was asking Amy whether the two of you have discussed your future."

Amy nearly choked on her tea.

"Amy!" Sheldon moved quickly to take the mug from her hands and patted her on the back as she coughed. "Are you alright?"

"Yes...I…I'll be fine…" She finally caught her breath and looked up at her mother, who was watching their interaction with a shrewd expression. "That was hardly an appropriate question…"

"I disagree," Sheldon interrupted.

Amy turned to stare at him, but before she could raise any further protest, he took her hand under the table and squeezed it hard. She looked into his bright blue eyes and realized he was silently asking her to trust him. Slowly, she nodded.

"You…you do?" Mrs. Fowler's voice forced them to break their shared gaze, and Amy realized abruptly that her mother hadn't been looking for a real answer at all; she had merely been trying to force a reaction. His lack of panic had surprised her. _Surprised us both_, Amy thought with a small smile.

"Yes," Sheldon said, as if the highly personal question had been the most reasonable thing in the world. "Mrs. Fowler, it's only natural that as her mother, you are concerned for Amy's well-being. You want to make sure that she is in good hands, as it were." He smiled fondly at his girlfriend, Amy smiled weakly back, wondering where he was going with this.

"And is she?" Mrs. Fowler queried, still clearly taken aback.

To Amy's surprise, he didn't turn toward the question, instead continuing to look into his girlfriend's eyes as he spoke. "Mrs. Fowler, as I've told my own mother on multiple occasions, Amy is more similar to me than anyone I have ever met. She has inspired feelings that I had believed myself incapable of having, and she has made me a more affectionate, better person." He tore his gaze away from Amy and looked back at Mrs. Fowler, giving her a tiny shrug. "I love her. I want what's best for her. And I intend to do whatever it takes to keep her in my life."

Amy nearly couldn't breathe, amazed as always by how matter-of-fact he could be about his feelings for her and deeply moved that he would share those feelings with someone he hardly knew.

Mrs. Fowler looked from Sheldon to Amy and back again, finally pursing her lips and giving a tiny nod. "I'm very glad to hear that."

Amy looked at her mother and could tell by her expression that she still didn't necessarily approve of their relationship, but that much of her initial prejudice against Sheldon was fading. For that, Amy was thankful. There would be plenty of time ahead to get her mother's blessing – or not, since frankly Sheldon mattered more to her than parental validation ever could – but things would be easier now that her mother would at least give him a chance.

For the next forty-five minutes, the three of them talked. Sheldon told Amy's mother about his career and his plans for a Nobel Prize, but not without acknowledging Amy's own work and how proud he was of her findings. He made a few typically Sheldon-esque comments that made Mrs. Fowler's eyes widen and Amy wince, but nothing too extreme from which the conversation couldn't recover. Overall, he was everything Amy could have wanted from him in this meeting: charming, sincere, brilliant, and witty.

After they finished their tea and walked back outside, waving goodbye to Mrs. Fowler and getting into Amy's car, she reached out and touched his hand. "Sheldon, you were wonderful."

"I was, wasn't I?" he said with a wide grin, clearly as proud of himself as she was of him. "I told you I could be the perfect boyfriend."

Amy's eyebrows raised. "Actually, you never said that."

"Oh." He shrugged. "I suppose I thought it was implied."

She laughed. "Well, don't get too cocky just yet. You have many more members of my family to impress before the day is through."

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who has stuck with me so far, and especially thank you to those who have continued to review. It's very helpful for me as a writer to know what I'm doing right and what I can improve on!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

"I'm sorry, Ms. Fowler, I double-checked, but I'm not finding any record of your reservation in the system."

"But I made the reservation two weeks ago. For two adjoining rooms," Amy insisted again.

"I don't know what to say, miss. We've been having some technical problems recently. It's possible that your reservation was mistakenly overwritten."

She glanced helplessly back at Sheldon, who was loaded down with both of their suitcases and garment bags. "And you say that you only have one room left?" she addressed the desk clerk.

"I'm afraid so. It's a very busy weekend in town. Several conferences, family reunions, weddings…you could check with other hotels, but this may be the only vacancy you find."

She sighed, trying to decide how to proceed. Then she heard Sheldon's voice behind her. "We'll take the room."

Amy turned to look at him in surprise. "Are you sure? We can check whether the other hotels…"

"You heard the man, Amy," he responded. "This conversation is putting us behind schedule as it is, and we still need to change clothes. Do you want to be late for your cousin's wedding?"

She shook her head slowly. "No, but I also don't want to make you…"

"I'll be fine," he assured her. "Besides, the situation is really beyond our control. I hardly see how anyone could blame us."

She eyed him carefully for a few seconds, then turned back to the clerk with a shrug. "We'll take it."

A few minutes later, she and Sheldon were walking down the hallway toward the elevator, armed with a room key and an awkward silence. "Thank you for being so reasonable about this," she finally said, hoping he could detect the sincerity of her gratitude. She knew all too well how painful Sheldon could have made the situation had he chosen to lecture rather than adapt.

His brow furrowed. "I'm always reasonable," he said. "Remarkably so, given the trying ways of our social group." She was unsure whether to roll her eyes or to nod in agreement, knowing that as ornery as he could be, he did work hard to accommodate his friends amidst his struggles with social expectations and his obsessive need for routine.

The elevator arrived, and they got on board. She noted that he seemed to be avoiding her gaze and wondered vaguely whether he was really okay with the new sleeping arrangements. She knew better than to bring that up just yet, though, and instead asked, "Are you sure you don't want me to carry my own bag? It's really not that heavy…"

"And as I told you at the car, chivalry isn't dead, little lady." He shot her a small smile, encouraging her to relax a bit, though she continued to eye him curiously as the elevator doors opened and they walked down the hallway to their room.

Sheldon was the first to step inside, and she noticed his posture immediately become less tense. It took her only a moment to realize the reason why: there, beyond his lanky frame, were two beds. She had completely forgotten to ask about the furnishings before taking the room. _But Sheldon did think about it, and he still didn't bother to ask before saying we'd take the room…what does that mean?_

Before she could fully ponder this revelation, Sheldon's voice interrupted her thoughts. "You know, it's bad enough that your cousin insisted on an arctic climate for her wedding, but was it really necessary to make it a black tie affair?" He had unzipped his garment bag and was extracting his tuxedo for the evening.

She smiled and closed the hotel room door. "That really bothers you? You seemed to enjoy how we both looked in formalwear at prom."

"Well, I did bear a striking resemblance to Bruce Wayne, and you looked…" His voice trailed off, and she could have sworn he was blushing, but he quickly turned his back to her and busied himself with his luggage. "Anyway," he continued, "since we're already running late, we won't have time to take turns getting dressed. You can take the bathroom and I'll stay out here."

She nodded and quickly gathered the items she needed. "It should only take me a few minutes," she said.

* * *

><p>Sheldon let out an involuntary sigh of relief as soon as he heard the door shut behind wasn't that he was unwilling to tell her that she was pretty; he simply couldn't risk letting his physical attraction to her overwhelm him at a time like this. Meeting her mother in person had been stressful enough, what with the conflicting advice he had received from his friends – "Just be yourself," Penny had said soothingly, whereas the guys had all urged him to "lie like the wind" – and he was about to spend several hours navigating a labyrinth of social niceties in order not to embarrass Amy or himself in front of the entire Fowler clan. No, this was no time to let himself get worked up over the mental image of her in her prom dress. Or in that Star Trek uniform. Or over the way her typical cardigans and skirts hugged her curves attractively while leaving much to his vivid imagination…<p>

He shuddered and forced himself to focus on getting changed, first stripping down to his briefs and then slipping on the crisp white tuxedo shirt. He felt a little uncomfortable wearing rented clothing without long underwear underneath, but Amy had convinced him before prom that he would look better in a more closely fitted tux. Then, as now, he had felt an odd compulsion to try to impress her, and since he had suffered no adverse effects from his prom night attire, he had decided to repeat the experiment tonight. He had just finished buttoning his shirt and was starting to dress his lower half when he heard Amy's voice call out from the bathroom:

"Sheldon? I think I'm going to need your help."

He froze, one leg in and one leg out of his tuxedo pants. His mind involuntary flashed back to the time he had helped Penny get dressed to go to the hospital, except this time, instead of Penny it was Amy, and…_oh boy_.

Before he could gather himself to respond, the bathroom door opened and Amy was standing there, dressed in a long, satiny, plum-colored gown that clung attractively to her breasts and hips while still keeping her well-covered. He was so enthralled by the sight of her that it took him a few seconds to remember that he was only half-dressed.

_"Amy!"_ he gasped, scrambling to get his pants the rest of the way up.

She obediently averted her eyes even while shaking her head bemusedly. "Sheldon, I've seen you in your underwear multiple times. I just need you to help me with my zipper."

She turned her back to him and swept her hair out of the way with her hand. Sheldon finished fastening his pants and approached her hesitantly, attention fixed on the exposed portion of her upper back. Her skin was pale and looked invitingly soft._ She really isn't making tonight easy for me_, he thought ruefully, carefully grasping hold of the zipper while making as little contact with her body as possible. He gave the zipper a sharp tug, but it didn't budge. "Um…Amy, it's stuck."

"I _know _it's stuck, Sheldon. That's why I need your help," she explained in an exasperated tone. "Just don't rip my dress…I don't have anything else to wear."

He gulped, having unintentionally conjured quite the mental image from that statement, and forced himself to focus on the task at hand. _I'm a theoretical physicist. I can certainly handle a zipper_. He attempted several maneuvers, each obliging him to make progressively greater contact with her body in the process, but none of his actions seemed to have any effect on the uncooperative garment. Unfortunately, this level of proximity to Amy – particularly Amy in this dress, with her back exposed – _was _having an effect.

Amy finally glanced over her shoulder at him. "Maybe it would help if you try lowering the zipper a bit first," she suggested.

He nodded and proceeded to try to nudge the zipper the other way, feeling his anxiety build as he did so. _Come on, Cooper. There's no reason to be nervous. You saw a lot more of her than this when you bathed her. _He realized too late that that thought wasn't exactly helpful. _Alright, time for another approach. Perhaps a little Kolinahr…_

Amy sighed impatiently, drawing his focus back to the task at hand, and he tried another gentle tug downward. This time, the zipper moved, sliding easily down to her waist to reveal still more pale skin and the back of her black satin bra. He drew in his breath, admiring the contrast.

"Sheldon?" Amy asked after a few seconds had passed. "I kind of need you to zip it back _up_ now."

"Oh, right," he murmured, unable to take his eyes off her exposed flesh. He gently tugged the zipper upward, and this time it slid easily – far too easily, he thought, with a discomforting sense of disappointment – all the way up to the base of her neck. Then she allowed her hair to fall back over her shoulders, and he was suddenly and inexplicably overcome by the very rush of emotions he had been hoping to avoid but that always seemed to boil up when he was alone with her.

She turned to face him. "Thank you," she said, her eyes shining brightly, and it took all of his willpower not to pull her in for a kiss. She seemed to sense his internal struggle, and her smile faded to a look of concern. "Is everything alright?"

"Is it really necessary for you to look so attractive?" The words tumbled out of him before he had even realized what he was going to say.

Her eyes widened, though she seemed pleased. "You think I look attractive right now?"

"I always think you're attractive," he answered matter-of-factly, quickly averting his eyes and moving to retrieve his bowtie from the bed. "But yes, you do look particularly pretty in that dress."

"Thank you, Sheldon." She smiled, touched, and cautiously moved closer to him. "Would you like help with your tie?"

"I watched a few YouTube videos, and it seems pretty straightforward…" he started, but she quickly plucked the tie from his fingers and slipped it around his neck.

"It'll be faster if I do it," she explained, her fingers moving as deftly as when she played her harp for him. He studied her movements, undeniably impressed.

"You're better at that than Leonard."

"Well, I have been practicing for a while, hoping it might come in handy someday," she admitted with a smile as she stepped back to check her work. "Perfect. Now, finish getting ready while I go fix my hair."

He watched her thoughtfully as she disappeared back into the bathroom, this time leaving the door open. "Amy?"

"Yes?"

"Is there anything else you've been practicing that I should be aware of?" He wasn't quite sure why he asked or what answer he expected, but it seemed intriguing somehow.

Amy leaned back so he could see her face in the doorway. "That's for me to know and you to find out," she said, a sly smirk lighting up her features. "I think you'll be pleasantly surprised though."

Then she gave him a quick wink and disappeared again into the other room, leaving him dumbstruck in her wake.

**A/N: My apologies for the delay in posting - what I had intended to be one chapter has grown into three. Hopefully this provides a tantalizing taste of things to come, along with a healthy dose of foreshadowing, and will carry you over until Chapter 10 goes live within the next 24 hours. ;) As always, thanks for reading/reviewing, and I hope my American readers had an enjoyable Thanksgiving!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

When she arrived at the wedding reception later that evening, Amy felt a little like she was in a dream: the ballroom around her was shimmering with candles and romantic ambiance; a pianist was playing a lovely rendition of "The Way You Look Tonight" in the background; and her tall, brilliant boyfriend was by her side with her arm looped through his. As she led him over to their table, she couldn't help stealing glances up at his handsome features, watching as his eyes darted rapidly around the room to take in his surroundings.

Suddenly his eyes widened. "Amy, they have a sundae bar!" She smiled at the boyish glee that lit up his face.

"Go ahead…have fun," she said, barely getting the words out before he dashed away. Letting him get hyped up on sugar could make for an interesting night, but he had been so well-behaved during the rather long and tedious ceremony that she couldn't deny him some fun. She had taken her seat and was still absently watching his retreating form when two familiar faces approached the table.

"Amy, is that you?" her great-aunt Flora asked, squinting through her thick glasses and leaning heavily on her walker.

"Of course it's her," Amy's grandmother said, helping her much frailer sister settle heavily into a chair. "She looks more like my daughter-in-law every year."

Amy could never be sure, given Grandmother Fowler's customary haughty tone, whether this was meant as a compliment or an insult, but as in past years she hoped for the best and smiled brightly at them both. "Hello Grandmother. Aunt Flora."

In many ways, the two women couldn't have looked less like sisters. Flora was pleasantly plump and indefatigably cheerful, despite her advanced age and increasingly poor health. Amy had frequently imagined Sheldon's Mee-maw as being something like Aunt Flora. Grandmother Fowler, on the other hand, was a rather severe woman, both in appearance and attitude. The only trait the sisters clearly shared were their green eyes, which Amy had also inherited through her father.

"Let me guess," Grandmother Fowler began, giving Amy a shrewd glare. "This gentleman friend you keep telling us about has found another convenient excuse to avoid us."

Amy cringed, having had this conversation with various family members far too many times over the past few years. Even though this time she could finally prove his existence, the snide tone and obvious implications were still hurtful. "Actually, Sheldon is here. He's just gone to get ice cream."

Her grandmother raised one eyebrow, clearly conveying a nonverbal _I'll-believe-it-when-I-see-it _sentiment.

Amy was relieved when Flora spoke up. "Oh, leave the girl alone, Frances. Now Amy honey, how's school?"

Amy smiled ruefully, reminded that her aunt's memory was as poor as her vision as of late. "Oh…I'm not in school any more Aunt Flora. I do work at a university, though."

"Oh, isn't that nice," Flora sighed. "You're a teacher like your mother."

"Well, actually…" Amy began, trying to think how best to explain neuroscience to a nonagenarian. She was rescued from her dilemma by the overpowering floral scent of her mother's perfume and the subsequent appearance of the woman herself taking a seat next to her daughter.

"Hello Frances, Flora. Amy, honey, sit up straight…you know that posture is unattractive. And fix your dress…the neckline is a little low."

Amy sighed and adjusted her position. "My dress is fine, mother."

"It is a lovely dress," Flora offered. Amy smiled and murmured a "thank you", but her great-aunt was already gazing absently in another direction.

"I suppose it is nice enough," her mother granted, "though purple is hardly your best color. I imagine Sheldon enjoys it thought."

Amy deliberately ignored the subsequent pointed glance at her neckline and answered, "Yes, he said I look pretty."

"I imagine he did," her grandmother replied. "I seem to remember that miniature horse breeder finding you quite attractive, as well."

Amy felt like screaming but bit her lip instead. Then, as if by magic, Sheldon was taking his seat beside her again, armed with not one but two ice cream sundaes. He slid one in front of her. "I thought you might like one too."

She smiled at him so gratefully that he was clearly taken aback, but thankfully he didn't ask her about it. Instead he simply motioned toward her great-aunt and grandmother. "Aren't you going to introduce me?"

"Oh, of course," she said, remembering that they weren't alone no matter how much she would have liked for them to be. "Sheldon, this is my grandmother, and this is my Aunt Flora. Grandmother, Flora, this is my _boyfriend _Sheldon." She laid so much stress on the word "boyfriend" that Sheldon gave her another confused glance and her mother indiscreetly rolled her eyes.

"Well, Sheldon, how good of you to finally take time to join us," Grandmother Fowler said rather coldly, She seemed irritated to have been proven wrong regarding his existence.

Sheldon looked from the elderly woman to Amy and back again, clearly perplexed. "I was only gone for a few minutes…"

Amy touched his hand. "I think she's referring to us having dated for years without her having met you."

"Oh," he said, seeming no less confused on how to respond.

"Frances, you needn't have jumped on the boy like that," Flora said, suddenly frowning at her sister. "I for one am happy to see Amy here with a friend." She turned to give Sheldon a wide smile, which he hesitantly returned. Amy took his hand under the table and squeezed it reassuringly.

"I'd just like to know something about this _friend_, Flora," Grandmother Fowler replied. "For instance, what exactly is it that you do, Sheldon?" She enunciated his name as if it tasted unpleasant on her tongue.

Sheldon either didn't notice or chose not to acknowledge her tone. "I'm a theoretical physicist at Caltech."

"Sheldon is a brilliant scientist," Amy volunteered, beaming at him. "He's practically guaranteed to get a Nobel Prize at some point in his career."

"I see," her grandmother harrumphed. "He likes the same nonsense that you do."

Sheldon's eyebrows shot up a few inches. Amy gripped his hand so tightly that her nails were leaving marks. _Kolinahr_, she thought anxiously, helplessly willing him to read her mind. Oddly enough, he seemed to; instead of lashing out, he took a few deep breaths while Grandmother Fowler continued to watch him with a faint, cruel smirk on her lips.

For once, Amy's mother seemed to take pity on her daughter and shifted the conversation. "The ceremony was quite nice, don't you think, Frances?"

"Well, it certainly turned out better than Irene's," Grandmother Fowler replied, shifting her attention to her daughter-in-law. Amy nodded, remembering the tragic carbon monoxide accident that had killed her cousin Irene and several members of her wedding party the night before the ceremony. Tonight's bride was Irene's much younger sister.

"Good old Irene," a familiar deep voice said, and Amy froze with a spoonful of ice cream millimeters from her lips. "She always was nice to me before she bit the dust."

She knew who it was without even looking and silently kicked herself for thinking the conversation couldn't get worse. Her cousin Brendan sprawled into the seat next to Sheldon, clearly already inebriated despite the reception having just started. His glazed eyes passed around the table and – despite her earnest effort to avoid meeting his gaze – settled on Amy.

"Well if it isn't Lame-y Amy," he slurred.

Sheldon's eyes narrowed, but Amy nudged him with her elbow to get his attention and silently begged him to be quiet. He gave her a small, reluctant nod. "Brendan," she then muttered toward her cousin, hoping that maybe – just maybe – if she didn't provoke him, he would direct his jeers elsewhere. Unfortunately, Brendan had no intention of letting her off the hook so easily.

"Oh, come on, Amy, don't be like that. You and I go_ way_ back," he said. Then he winked at Sheldon. "You must be the boyfriend we all thought she made up. Or did Ann there" – he motioned toward Amy's mother – "pay you to come?"

Amy gave Brendan an icy glare. Sheldon looked totally bewildered and frustrated, seeming to realize that he and Amy were being insulted but not quite knowing how to respond.

"No, then?" Brendan continued, arching an eyebrow. "Really, dude, if you're going to be forced to spend an evening with Amy, you might as well get something out of it…unless you already are…"

This time Sheldon seemed to fully understand the implication and had gathered himself enough to speak. "I'd advise you to stop talking," he said, his voice deathly quiet and calm like Amy had never heard it.

"Aww, isn't that cute," Brendan slurred. "Stretch here is threatening me."

Amy felt Sheldon's arm flex against hers. She leaned close to him. "He isn't worth it," she said quietly, earnestly. She glanced over at her mother, hoping that maybe the older woman could step in to diffuse the situation.

Her mother nodded and jumped into the fray, but not quite in the way that her daughter had hoped. "Brendan, honey," Ann began, standing and making her way over to her nephew. "I think you've had a little too much to drink. Maybe we can go get you some coffee and give Amy and Sheldon a minute to cool off…"

Amy stared at her incredulously. "Mother! Why are you coddling_ him_ when he's the one being an ass?"

Flora gasped, and Grandmother Fowler glared at Amy condescendingly. "Really, young lady, your language…"

"So it's fine for him to be insulting, but I can't defend myself?" Amy retorted, standing up.

Brendan chuckled. "Oh, come off it, Amy. I'm just joking around."

"See? He didn't mean anything by it," her mother insisted, patting her nephew on the shoulder. "Now, Amy, will you please sit down and stop making a scene? It's not very ladylike."

"Indeed," Grandmother Fowler spoke up. "You don't see our Brendan shouting like a lunatic." She smiled at her grandson fondly – or, at least, as fondly as her sharp features were capable of.

"You have got to be kidding me." Amy stared from one woman to another and finally gave up. "I need a drink." She took off toward the bar, and Sheldon quickly stood to follow her, catching up just as she demanded a shot from the bartender.

"Amy?" he queried. She didn't respond at first, her fury from the table conversation still roaring in her ears. "Amy," he repeated more insistently, and she finally turned her attention to him.

"What, Sheldon?" she asked, gratefully grabbing her drink as soon as it hit the counter and downing it far more quickly than she should have.

He watched her, concern evident in his blue eyes. "What was going on back there? Who was that man?"

"Man?" she spat out. "Rat bastard is more like it." She turned back to the barkeeper. "Hit me again."

"Amy, despite what Penny may have taught you, drinking isn't the answer…"

"Sheldon, _please _don't mess with me right now," she said. She was about to down her second shot when Sheldon forcibly moved the glass out of reach.

"Amy, talk to me."

She sighed. "Fine. I'll answer one question, if you'll give me the alcohol."

He nodded. "Who is he?"

"He's my cousin." She reached for the glass. Sheldon shook his head and motioned for her to go on. "Fine. You want to know more? Let's see. When we were seven we played hide and seek, and he locked me in his parents' attic for ten hours before telling anyone where I was. When we were twelve, he stole money from our grandmother's purse and said he saw me do it. When we were fourteen, he told my mother a ridiculous lie about me showing my underwear to a boy at school, and I was grounded for an entire year because she believed him over me. Then, when we were seventeen, my mother had the bright idea to pay him to be my prom date, but he used the money for drugs and stood me up. I was so mortified that I spent the evening on the cleaning crew to avoid facing my classmates." She took a deep breath to calm the emotions that were welling up inside of her. "I could tell you dozens more stories like that, but I think you get the point. And then tonight…"

"He insulted you again, right in front of everyone, and no one did anything about it," Sheldon volunteered.

She nodded. "It's always like this. In their eyes, Brendan can do no wrong. I thought I had gotten used to it and learned not to let him get to me, but when he started in on you…on us…"

Sheldon gingerly placed his hand on her arm. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I'm your boyfriend, and I should have put an end to it, even if I wasn't quite sure what was happening."

She shook her head. "No, picking a fight wouldn't have helped. You handled it as well as you could have." They looked at each other in silence for a long moment, until she finally motioned toward the shot glass he was still holding. "Can I have my drink now?"

To her surprise, he brought the glass up to his own lips and quickly downed the entire shot, sputtering a bit after he finished.

"Sheldon! What are you…"

"Come on," he said, taking hold of her hand. "It's time to go back over there and have a talk with that low-down cousin of yours. And maybe your mother and grandmother while we're at it."

She stared at him incredulously. ""Sheldon, while it's incredibly sweet that you want to defend me, I hardly think you lecturing my family members is a good idea…"

"Amy," he said, stopping her mid-sentence, "I know you want your family to like me, and so do I, but if they aren't going to treat you with respect…"

"They aren't," she said simply. "Sheldon, believe me when I say that I appreciate your wanting to do this for me, but when it comes to my family, some things are never going to change. Making a scene would only make their judgments worse."

"What do you want to do then?"

She sighed. "Honestly? I want to just leave. But I came here to show you off and have a good time, and I don't want to be rude to the bride and groom."

"So you're proposing that we spend the rest of the evening ignoring your family's rude comments as best we can?"

She nodded.

Sheldon paused and looked around the room thoughtfully, then lowered his gaze back to hers. "I have an alternate suggestion. We stay, but we spend as little time as possible at our table. Instead we 'mingle', as it were, and once the dance floor opens, we spend the majority of our time there impressing the public with our superior dance moves."

Her eyes widened. "But you hate small talk. And dancing."

He shrugged. "You want to show me off, I want to make you happy, and neither of us want to listen to your cousin and grandmother all night."

Before he could say another word, she kissed him. It was brief and relatively chaste, but he still felt his face grow hot from the public display.

"Thank you," she said after pulling away, looking relieved and happy and completely enamored with him. He gazed into her eyes and swallowed the complaint he had been about to make.

"You're welcome," he replied, "but do try to restrain yourself, woman."

"I'll do my best," she responded with a wink, and together they walked away from the bar, prepared to show the room just what Pasadena's favorite power couple was capable of.

**A/N: What will happen when Sheldon and a still-emotional Amy return to their hotel room, having had such a long and intense day together? We'll find out in the next chapter! (And since I am far more comfortable writing about emotions and intimacy than writing plot and dialogue, I am as excited - if not more so - than you are.) Thank you all for sticking with me through the build-up of this arc; I hope it hasn't been too tedious!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

"I will never understand why women insist on wearing pain-inducing footwear," Sheldon mused, his arm looped around Amy's waist to support her as she hobbled down the hallway. He glanced skeptically at the strappy silver stilettos that Penny had talked her into buying for the occasion.

"We've gone over this before. High heels make the breasts and buttocks appear more prominent," explained Amy, punctuating her answer with an exaggerated wince. "On the other hand, they are hardly suitable for three hours of dancing." He nodded in agreement, tightening his hold on her with one hand while taking their key card from his pocket with the other.

They arrived at their room, and Sheldon opened the door, watching his girlfriend closely as she limped inside. She looked absolutely exhausted – both physically and emotionally – and he felt the same way. As soon as the dance floor had been opened to guests, he had done his best to keep Amy on it, away from the prying questions and frustrating comments of various family members. As usual, he had found it difficult to differentiate between teasing and deliberate cruelty, so he had tended to assume the latter and to protect her as best he could without actually returning insults. All the while, he had found himself guiltily wondering how much of this rudeness she had experienced over the past few years, when she had practically begged him to accompany her to family events and he had consistently refused…

Amy's voice broke into his thoughts, bringing him back to the present reality of their hotel room. "You were wonderful tonight, Sheldon. Thank you."

He nodded, his blue eyes studying her as she bent to remove her shoes and then went to extract her nightgown from her suitcase. She really was beautiful – stunningly so – and the most intelligent person he knew aside from himself. She didn't deserve the treatment she had gotten from her family tonight, nor the treatment she had gotten from him for so long. "I'm glad you think so," he finally said, closing and locking the door behind him, "though I still wish you had let me teach that cousin of yours a thing or two."

She smiled ruefully. "As much as I would have loved to see you go all Texan on him, I don't think the fallout would have been to our liking."

"You're probably right," he admitted, "but if you change your mind, let me know."

"Will do."

He walked over to where she stood, her back to him as she rummaged through her overnight bag, and found himself thinking back to earlier points in the evening: the tantalizing proximity of her bare flesh when he had helped her with her dress, the sinewy movements of her body as they had danced at the reception, the way she had fit so naturally in the curve of his arm as he had led her back to their room. In all other situations, Sheldon Cooper was a man of science, but when he was with her…

She looked over her shoulder at him. "Would you mind helping me get unzipped? I need to change clothes."

He nodded and drew up behind her, but instead of going for her zipper, he instinctively placed his hands on either side of her waist. She always seemed so small and vulnerable when he was this close to her, and after the night they had just had, the tension was evident in her posture. He leaned down to plant a gentle kiss on the top of her head.

"Sheldon...what –"

"Shhh," he murmured, kissing her hair again and sliding his hands up to her shoulders. Taking advantage of his eidetic memory, he quickly located the pressure points she had taught him about and began massaging them. Her startled gasp let him know he was doing it right.

"Oh God, Sheldon…that feels…"

"I know," he said softly, adding a little pressure but not enough to hurt her. "I told you my hands are magic."

She smiled, eyes closed, and tilted her chin downward to afford him better access. He paused long enough to sweep her hair out of the way, then continued to massage along her shoulder blades and up the sides of her neck.

"Sheldon?" she whispered after several minutes.

"Yes?"

"I love you."

He lowered his hands back to her waist and turned her to face him. She was flushed and radiant in the lamplight, and her eyes were like sparkling pools of green liquid that he wanted to lose himself in. "I love you too," he replied, his voice breaking mid-phrase, and then their lips crashed together like particles in a reactor.

He had been kissing her regularly for the past few weeks – multiple times on date nights, occasionally after weekday meals if they managed to find a moment alone – and he used all the observations he had gathered to his advantage now, opting for a speed and pressure he knew from experience would make her go weak in the knees. His hands, resting lightly on her hips, were apparently not enough to steady her, as she instinctively slipped her arms up and around his shoulders in a touch that was unfamiliar but not at all unpleasant. He kissed her passionately, hungrily, relishing the feeling of holding her in his arms with enough time and privacy to fully enjoy it.

Later he could never be sure if it had been his pragmatic mind reminding him of the task at hand or if perhaps – more frighteningly – it was something else altogether, but as he continued to kiss her, something compelled him to move his hand up her back to locate her zipper. As he began to slide it downward, he felt her body stiffen, giving him pause; but then, as suddenly as she had frozen, her body language shifted. She pressed closer against him, and her kisses became deeper, harder, more confident, and he knew that was her way of telling him to proceed. He lowered the zipper all the way to her waist, his mind conjuring images from earlier in the day, and this time the temptation to touch her was too great. He slid his hand just inside the fabric of her dress, feeling her arch her back in an involuntary response to his touch. Her skin was just as soft as he had imagined it would be, and much warmer.

He traced her spine with his fingertips, finding the divot he had heard her mention and marveling when his discovery made her lurch in his arms. He firmly massaged the pressure points on her lower back, reveling in the sounds of the soft moans he elicited. All the while, he continued to kiss her, alternating between sucking and caressing her upper and lower lips. The combination of sensations, of stimuli to be processed, was more than his brain could comfortably handle, but he didn't want to stop. Just as he felt a need to breath, to eat, and to drink, he felt the need now to be as close to her as possible, to prolong the waves of sensitivity and pleasure and heat that were rushing through him one after another as if drawn from her writhing form through his fingertips and up to his brain. Their frenzied kisses were somehow both too much and not enough, and he suddenly knew what the next step should be.

He forced himself to pull his hands away from the bare flesh of her back and to instead place them on the familiar curves of her clothed hips; he tried to shut out the soft sounds she was making and the pounding drumbeat of his own heart. Instead, he focused all of his physical and mental energy on the contact between his lips and hers. Then – slowly, deliberately – he traced the crease between her lips with the tip of his tongue.

She responded as he had hoped (or, perhaps, as he had feared), her lips parting slightly to allow him access. Willing himself to stay calm and focused, he pressed forward, beginning a tentative exploration of her mouth. He heard her moan and felt her body melting into his embrace, and he knew he should stop, but he couldn't. He had never believed in a deity, but this – the feel, taste, scent, and sound of her – could only be described as divine. A part of him wondered why he had waited so long to experience her like this, but he knew the answer even as his mind posed the question. It had taken until now, in the aftermath of prom and his confession of his feelings for her both to Amy and himself, for them to be on the same page, to have the union of feelings and intentions that was making this experience so surreally intimate and sublime. It had taken time, but he had needed it, and now he was ready to patiently and thoroughly explore her in the way that she deserved.

He caressed her sides, mesmerized by the trust and willingness with which she was yielding to his impassioned advances. Still, he knew by the firmness of her lips beneath his and the measured gasps of her breath that she was restraining herself, allowing him to explore this new level of intimacy without having to cope with sensations beyond his control. He felt a surge of love for her: his Amy, who so often put his needs ahead of her own desires and impulses, who understood him so well without either of them having to say a word.

He touched his tongue to hers, and it was as if an electrical impulse passed through them both, locking them together and eliciting a mutual groan. He tentatively turned the touch into a caress, unsure as to what he was doing but encouraged by the way she trembled in his grasp. It was intense, this 'French kissing', but it wasn't as terrifying as he had feared. In fact, he thought as their tongues intertwined, it was a bit like a dance, and he exceled at dancing. His hands slid back to the smooth skin of her exposed spine to brace her against him as his tongue continued to explore. It was so much for him to take in – too much – but he couldn't bring himself to pull away. _Not now._

No, it was Amy who finally pulled back, breaking the kiss but not his hold on her. She was flushed and trembling, her breath coming in shallow gasps. He slid his hands to her waist to steady her and gazed into her eyes, trying to decipher the emotions flickering there.

"Sheldon," she finally whispered, having had a moment to recover, "we should probably stop."

He took a small step back, releasing her from his grasp. "Of course. I'm sorry. That was…too much…"

She shook her head vigorously. "No, it was _wonderful_. I just…we should get some sleep…and I still need to change clothes…and so much has happened today…"

He nodded. Before today, the most they had done physically was some open-mouthed kissing and a little one-sided necking. Yet here he was, practically ravishing her in a hotel room. He wasn't even sure how things had gotten to this point. "I'm sorry," he began, but she shook her head again, stopping him.

"Don't be. _Never _be sorry for kissing me. I just…" Her voice trailed off, and he could see the color build in her cheeks. "Even though I've spent years waiting and wanting, now that it's finally happening…"

"I'm nervous too," he said softly, taking her hand in his.

They gazed at each other, and it was all he could do not to pull her back in for another lingering kiss, but he knew she was right. They both needed time to process what had happened and to _then _move forward. But he would be damned if he didn't want her more in this moment than he had ever wanted anything in his life.

She stood up on her tiptoes to give him a quick kiss on the cheek, then scurried into the bathroom with her nightgown in hand. He sighed and turned his attention to his own nighttime rituals, the taste of her still lingering on his swollen lips and tongue. It had all happened so fast: his lips on her lips, his tongue on her tongue, his fingers deftly moving to undo her dress as they kissed. It was startling to him now that he had gone so far so fast without letting his fears and sensitivities overwhelm him. And how easily he could have gone even further, slipping that dress from her shoulders and exploring even more of the pale skin beneath…

_"What has that vixen done to me?_" he whispered hoarsely, and the only answer was the rapid beating of his own heart.

**A/N: I have a few different ideas for where to go from here, and I'm not sure which I like best, so I fully welcome reader opinions on what you think the next step should be. :) Also, as a side note: I am entering into the home stretch of my semester, with lots of final exams/projects, so updates may be less frequent for the next 1-2 weeks. As always, thanks for reading and for all the wonderful feedback you've been sending my way!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

The first soft rays of early morning light were just beginning to filter through the hotel room curtains when Amy woke. For a moment she couldn't remember where she was, vision clouded by retreating slumber and the lack of glasses, but then she heard Sheldon's soft, rhythmic breathing coming from across the room and remembered everything: the drive to Big Bear Lake, the successful meeting with her mother, the unsuccessful encounter with her grandmother and cousin, the hours of dancing – slow and fast – with her handsome, talented boyfriend at the wedding reception; and then…_that kiss_. Her toes curled just thinking about it.

She pulled herself into a seated position and put on her glasses to see him better. Lying there fast asleep – perfectly still and perfectly centered – in the opposite bed, he looked as peaceful as she had ever seen him. His features were relaxed into a small smile, and his lanky frame and alabaster skin practically beckoned her to curl up against him and rest her head in the Amy-sized crook of his shoulder that she had discovered the first time they cuddled. She wondered vaguely what it might be like to wake up to this every morning in even greater proximity. Then she remembered that she needed to be preparing for their return voyage, not gawking at her sleeping boyfriend, and she quietly slipped out of bed.

As she went about gathering her clothes for the day, she found her mind wandering back to the night before. Sheldon had been becoming more and more passionate when kissing her over the past few weeks, but this…this had been on another level, far beyond anything that had happened between them in the past. She had been startled and nervous in the immediate aftermath and had scurried away to the privacy of the bathroom to process her thoughts, and by the time she had returned, Sheldon had already been in bed asleep – or at least pretending to be. There had been no opportunity to talk it out, to gauge his emotional response to what had happened between them. And while a part of her had been relieved to postpone that discussion, to slip beneath the sheets of the opposite bed and immerse herself in dreams and memories of his hands and his lips – another part of her longed for the comfort of their open and honest communication and for reassurance that this had been part of the natural progression of their physical relationship and not an aberration borne of a stressful and emotionally-charged day that he would afterward regret.

She stole another glance at Sheldon's sleeping form. _He kissed me. He initiated everything that happened last night. Surely he wouldn't have done that if he wasn't okay with it._ But she knew – better than anyone – that Sheldon was often the last person to recognize and understand his own motivations. What he had done in a moment of emotion and hormones had been one thing; what he would do after having a chance to ponder the evening in that big bulbous brain of his was quite another. He was liable to react adversely, and she needed to be prepared for that.

She sighed and carried her clothes into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Frankly, Sheldon had always been a bit of a flight risk, and while their talks following his return from his train trip had assured her that he wouldn't flee commitment in quite so extreme or geographic a fashion in the future, she still worried that something small could set him off and make him backtrack from all the progress they had made recently. She would never want Sheldon to do anything that made him uncomfortable, but she would be lying if she said she hadn't enjoyed all the extra affection she had been receiving lately, and she was convinced he was enjoying it too. The key was to both of their happiness was to keep him from becoming overwhelmed.

Fortunately, if anyone knew how to manage Sheldon, it was her. She just had to be ready to quell any fears he might have.

* * *

><p>Sheldon woke to the sound of the shower running and the uncomfortable sensation of being in an unfamiliar place. Within seconds his eidetic memory recalled the events of the previous day, reminding him that he was in a hotel room in Big Bear Lake with Amy. <em>Amy.<em> A flush rose to his cheeks as he processed his memories of last night alongside the knowledge that she was currently showering in the adjoining room. _Amy._ The luminescent glow of her exposed back, the softness and warmth of her skin beneath his palms, the electric sensation of her tongue against his...he could feel his heart-rate quicken and forced himself to come back to the present.

No, he couldn't allow himself to get riled up like that again.

He thought back to her words from the night before. She had said that it was wonderful, and that he shouldn't be sorry for kissing her like that, but all the same…maybe he had pushed too far too fast. _Dear lord, I practically mauled her._ Once she had left the room and he had had time to calm his hormones, he had started to panic. What if she was more frightened than she was letting on? What if she thought he was some sort of sex pervert? Or – perhaps just as terrifying – what if she came out expecting _more_? The safest option had seemed to be getting in bed and pretending to sleep, so that's what he had done, being sure to center himself in the bed as usual so as to indicate as clearly as he could what the sleeping arrangements were to be. All the same, he had felt a strange emotion – could it really be disappointment? – when he had heard her climb into the other bed instead of next to him.

_Maybe you really are a sex pervert._ He sighed.

So for better or worse, he had avoided an uncomfortable conversation last night, but now that he and Amy were both awake and about to drive back to Pasadena together, a conversation seemed inevitable. But how to begin? Before he could formulate any words, he heard the water cut off next door and promptly scrambled out of bed, smoothing his hair as best he could before busying himself with his luggage.

After a few minutes the bathroom door opened and she emerged, fully dressed but with her wet hair hanging in waves instead of the usual straight strands. "Hello," he said automatically, the word sounding strange even as it left his lips.

"Hello," she replied, a small smile on her lips as she observed his disheveled early morning appearance.

For a moment they stood silently, looking at one another. Anyone else might have tried to draw him into some pointless small talk about his quality of sleep, the current weather, et cetera, but not his Amy. He knew she knew he had something to say, and she was waiting patiently for him to come out with it.

He gulped. "I suppose you must want to talk about…" His voice trailed off awkwardly.

Amy smiled inwardly, having expected and prepared for something like this. Outwardly, she nodded seriously. "I would never force you to talk about it if you don't want to, but I do think it would be best for us to acknowledge what happened now so we can be comfortable the rest of the day."

"I agree," he said quietly, followed by a pause as he deliberated how to proceed.

Amy stepped in for him. "Sheldon, I enjoyed last night very much, and I am perfectly comfortable with what happened, but I have no expectations that that – or anything like that – will happen again. I meant what I told you before prom. No pressure."

He bit his lip and nodded.

"If you want to talk more about it, we can," she offered, "but as far as I am concerned, we're fine."

"Just…fine?" he asked, eyebrow raising. Years of watching Penny and Leonard had taught him that with women, adjectives weren't always as they seemed.

Amy quickly corrected herself. "Better than fine. Great." Then, with a sly smirk: "You're a very effective kisser, Dr. Cooper."

He was torn between wanting to frown disapprovingly at what he could only classify as a blatant attempt at seduction and wanting to kiss her for being so concerned with his comfort and sparing him from having to discuss the events of the night before. He finally settled on middle ground and took a step toward her, reaching for her hand.

She allowed him to take her hand in his and watched as he caressed her fingers as he had once before, in the traditional Vulcan fashion. Her eyes then moved up to his, and their intense gaze communicated more than words ever could.

Then, before she could ensnare him further with words or her sparkling green eyes, he withdrew his hand. "Now get to packing, little lady. I agreed to postpone laundry night, so I need to get back to pre-soak and pre-sort."

"Of course, Dr. Cooper," she answered with a smile, and the two of them quickly returned to their departure preparations, both feeling substantially relieved.

* * *

><p>"Oh dear lord, it's the snowy apocalypse I predicted," Sheldon exclaimed, half accusingly and half despairingly, arms loaded down once more with their luggage.<p>

"Sheldon, there's only a dusting of fresh snow. An inch at the most." Amy rolled her eyes as she nudged him out the door of the hotel lobby.

While she wanted to minimize the snow when speaking to Sheldon – for obvious reasons – Amy was secretly admiring the surrounding landscape. The fresh glaze of snow on the trees and on the ground had transformed the already beautiful town into a veritable winter wonderland. Sheldon, however, was clearly not impressed.

"Did you see snow often, growing up in Texas?" she asked as they walked toward her car.

He shook his head. "No, fortunately I was mostly spared that particular form of inconvenient precipitation."

"So you've never played in the snow?"

"Amy, I am and have always been a scientist. I experiment. I don't _play_."

She bit back a reference to his video game obsession, knowing it could easily spiral into a four hour lecture on the merits of RPGs. "Okay. Did you ever _experiment_ with snow?"

"Of course not. Why would something as mundane as snow interest me, a brilliant theoretical physicist?"

She sighed. "Well, I think it's beautiful."

"You would. You're a female. You all like hippy dippy things like sunsets and rainbows."

"Like you like koalas?"

"Moot point. Everyone likes koalas." He smiled dreamily.

By now they had reached her parking space, and Amy used the excuse of unlocking her trunk to roll her eyes without him noticing. "What about the North Pole expedition?" she asked, straightening and stepping away so that Sheldon could load their suitcases.

"What about it?"

She didn't answer for a moment, distracted by the tightness of his jacket sleeve around his bicep as he hoisted her bag into the trunk.

"Amy?"

"What?" She ripped her gaze away guiltily. "Oh, right. I was just wondering if you…interacted…with the snow while you were at the North Pole."

"Oh." He closed the trunk and went to put their garment bags in the backseat. "I spent a lot of time in it, but it wasn't particularly interesting. Just a challenge to surmount. Leonard was the one wasting time preserving snowflakes."

"I don't think it was a waste of time. I think it was really romantic."

Sheldon snorted derisively but didn't respond. Amy watched him and suddenly had an idea. She bent and scooped up a handful of snow in her gloved hand. Just as he closed the car door and turned back to face her, the snow hit his sleeve.

"Amy!" he exclaimed in surprise, taken aback by the mischievous glow in her eyes. "What do you think you're doing?"

She took a few steps backward and gathered another handful of snow. "I'm trying to start a snowball fight," she said with a grin, chucking the second snowball a little harder and hitting him in the chest. His eyes widened.

"Amy, you're being juvenile…" The third – loosely packed – snowball hit him full in the face, and he sputtered.

"What are you going to do about it?" she asked, moving in closer.

"I hardly think it would be gentlemanly conduct for me to…"

Before he could finish his sentence, she reached up and around his neck and dropped a handful of snow down the back of his shirt. He yelped and scrambled to shake the snow out. She scampered backward a few feet. "And now?"

"Alright, you asked for it."

He scooped up some snow and tossed it in her direction, but she had already backed out of range and was starting up the snowy bank adjoining the parking lot. He took off after her, pausing only briefly to gather more snow and getting hit by another snowball in the process.

"I'm warning you little lady…" He threw a second snowball, and this time it collided with her slightly hunched shoulders. She giggled and turned back to face him, losing her balance in the process and falling back into the powdery snow.

Sheldon reached her within seconds and offered her his hand to help her up. She grabbed hold of him and started to pull, but instead of extracting herself from the snow, she simply managed to make him lose his balance too. Suddenly he was lying on top of her, their faces inches apart.

Amy smiled up at him. "Still think snow isn't romantic?"

He gulped. "No, but it does seem to make you more…frisky…than normal."

"We could always run some experiments to substantiate that claim."

He gazed into her eyes and for a moment completely forgot where he was. All that mattered was he and Amy and his breathtaking proximity to her. Then they both heard a sound behind him.

"Ahem."

Amy looked over Sheldon's shoulder, and her eyes widened. Noting her alarm, he glanced back as well and was off of her as quickly as the Flash himself could have been. Mrs. Fowler stood observing them, lips pursed in a disapproving frown.

"Mother, what are you doing here?" Amy finally managed to ask as she clumsily struggled to her feet. She had reached for Sheldon's arm for support, but he seemed too frozen in place to offer it, so she made do by herself.

"I was hoping to find you before you left. To say goodbye properly. And to…apologize."

Amy drew in her breath, unaccustomed to having anyone in her family apologize for anything. "It's really alright…"

To her surprise, her mother and Sheldon answered in unison. "No, it isn't."

Mrs. Fowler's eyes widened and appraised Sheldon curiously. Finally, she nodded. "I owe you both an apology, on behalf of myself and the rest of the family. The way we behaved was…"

"Inexcusable," Sheldon said firmly.

Amy stared at him, both amazed to hear him stand up to her mother like that and a little frightened about how her mother would react. But once again, Mrs. Fowler only nodded.

After a long silence between them during which Amy felt two pairs of eyes fixed solidly on her, she finally spoke. "I…I forgive you."

Mrs. Fowler smiled – a small, wry smile, but a smile nonetheless. "I'm glad. " Then she turned back to Sheldon. "You know, I wasn't sure what to think of you when Amy first introduced us, but I'm glad to see that my daughter has found someone who values her comfort and happiness as much as you seem to."

Amy smiled fondly up at Sheldon, and he looked at her with the characteristic expression that their friends had started calling his 'Amy face.' "Always," he said quietly, and she wasn't quite sure which of the two women he was speaking to, but she didn't care.

"All the same," Mrs. Fowler added, her smile fading, "I can't say I approve of my daughter wallowing about in the snow like a common…"

"Mother," Amy stopped her quickly. "We really must be starting home now."

Her mother nodded. "I suppose I should as well. I'm glad I got to see you before you left, and I suppose I will be seeing you again soon for Christmas."

As the two women said their goodbyes, Sheldon stood frozen once more. _Christmas._ He had been so preoccupied with his newfound physical intimacy with Amy that he had almost forgotten the impending holiday season and his annual tussle to avoid pesky holiday rituals.

_Time to start formulating a plan_, he thought as he climbed into Amy's car. That vixen could convince him to do a lot of things, but he had no intention of decking halls or kissing under mistletoe this year.

**A/N:**

**Sorry for the long wait, folks! End of semester + holiday madness = not much time to write, and I've been having a little bit of writer's block after going so long without posting, but I think I'm back on track now. I'm hoping to have the next chapter up before Christmas, since it's holiday themed and will give my take on a certain "Tijuana sex show" kiss. ;)**

**Thanks to everyone who responded to the last chapter with preferences for story pacing - I have a clearer idea now of what people want to see, and am happy to not rush the steamier sections. Shamy romance is fun to write, especially now that canon Sheldon is being so adorably sweet. **

**Finally, I appreciate all the reads and reviews and hope you like this conclusion to the wedding story arc. :)**


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